Many Hearts to Tread: Gold Edition
by Sarakaroline8
Summary: Arriving in Sanctuary, there is the claustrophobic presence of walls surrounding their 'safe-zone', loyal followers who call themselves the Saviors, and one leader with an ultimatum for Sherry to keep her group alive. Gold edition: Going back and editing every chapter because I am a perfectionist. This edition will include ALL BOOKS within one space.
1. Act 1: Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE – This is about Sherry in the Walking Dead comic books. I may take some liberties (in fact, be prepared for a LOT of liberties) because the comic books have only really mentioned her a handful of times. So far, she is a very underrated character. So instead of wallowing in pity and I** _ **wish**_ **Robert Kirkman would do (he's a very busy guy, after all), I went to FanFiction to fill the void. I hope you enjoy this. This will cross in between what has happened in the comic books but what has also happened in the show (so Daryl, Beth, and whomever is not in the comics will appear in this fanfiction eventually).**

 **In this first "novel," you will get to know Sherry.** _ **My**_ **version of Sherry. Forewarning! She could be very different from the comics, but how can you know because you don't really know much about her (personality wise). So the world is my oyster on this one! There will be lots of Negan for those who love that sadistic character. If you love him, what the hell is wrong with you?**

 **Here goes nothing. I hope you enjoy what I have to offer in TWD FanFiction universe. First time writing FanFiction. Again, here goes nothing!**

Act 1

Chapter 1

 _Present Day  
October 9, 2010  
Unknown Location_

The fire crackled in the darkness as smoke drifted up to the starry sky beyond the branches above. It should have been a peaceful setting while resting in the forest and listening to crickets in the distance.

It _used_ to be.

Before the dead walked the earth.

Gazing at the flames as they danced with the wind, Sherry stayed a safe distance near its warmth against the brisk fall air. Her limbs felt beyond dead from the amount of walking they had done. It had been six months since the world seemed to break right before her eyes. Throughout that time and to the present, her misfit group had spent a lot of time aimlessly wandering in order to survive. It was in the quiet moments that they were able to recoup and gather more strength or motivation to go on with their prosaic lives.

It had been six months since Sherry had lost everything. Glancing up from the fire, she stared at the others in their survival company. Each member had lost so much in that short amount of time. Homes were abandoned. Cars had died. Beloved family members and dear friends became lost in the midst of all the confusion.

Miles uncharted, Sherry didn't even know where they were in comparison to where they began. With the focus being primarily on survival, they hardly paid attention to which state or what county they took shelter in. _What was the point?_ Sherry thought to herself. Territories didn't have a purpose anymore.

Taking her attention away from her group, she went back to looking at the fire in solemnity. The quiet moments gave her time to ponder the joyful life she had before. It only made her more depressed to know those days would only serve as a faded memory.

The last time she spoke with her parents was on her phone. With herself moving to Athens, Georgia for school and her parents living in Chicago, it made the possibility of seeing them ever again a crushing unlikelihood. Sherry didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to her mom. Not even a final 'I love you.'

Replaying their last conversation, she continued to stare at the campfire as it swept about with ebb and flow.

 _Six Months Ago  
April 26, 2010  
Athens Georgia_

" _Sweetie, we have a plan," her dad, Vincent, offered, "Once everything dies down, we will call you and come find you. Keep your phone battery charged. I heard that power is going out in a lot of places. We think we'll be safe at Grandma Malloy's house in Michigan. People are in a panic over here. We can't stay in Chicago. I just can't believe how screwed up everything is right now."_

 _Sherry glimpsed her surroundings and watched as everyone in the parking lot hurriedly put all of their essential items in their individual cars. She did the same one-handedly while holding her phone and forced herself not to overreact. "Dad, I'll be fine," she assured with some underlying doubt, "A couple of my friends and I are going camping outside of the bigger cities until everything clears up. We'll give it a couple of weeks and see how everything is. I'm sure by then there won't be a need to come find me." She closed the trunk of her car and raced back to her college apartment._

" _Sher," Vincent began, "I don't know how bad it is in Georgia. But people aren't themselves at home. Uncle Benny and I had to board up the Moritz' place because they went insane. They ate their dog for Christ sake, honey."_

 _She briefly paused from what she heard and thought about her neighbors in her hometown. The Moritz family had lived next door to them since her family moved into that particular house when she was five._

" _They kept on making these strange noises," Vincent continued, "We tried calling the hospital to get some EMT's to come pick them up but the line was busy all day. I had to keep your mom safe. So we boarded their house up with the Moritz' still inside. Like animals."_

 _Everything seemed to be very disconcerting for Sherry. When previous disasters hit around the world before, it was always something that occurred at one particular place and to only one group of people. Whatever was materializing now was a global phenomenon and a personal hit to Sherry's comfort zone. Earlier that day, more than half of her classmates were absent from their mutual business class. The professor divulged that his morning was spent replying to dozens of emails from students complaining of a bad fever._

 _After that class, Sherry sat in her apartment eating breakfast and received an email stating that all other classes for the duration of that week were cancelled due to too many teachers calling in sick. Peering at the closed doors that belonged to her roommates, a shiver ran down her spine when she didn't hear activity in their rooms while only presuming they slept in. No hair dryers, stereo systems, alarm clocks, or morning chatter erupted. Instead her apartment seemed eerily quiet and claustrophobic._

 _Sherry left her roommates alone for the whole day and hoped that they would pull through. She didn't know how lucky she had been to be unscathed of whatever illness that befell them. However, if they didn't get better soon, she would be camping in the woods all by herself._

 _Feeling a sense of loyalty, Sherry wanted to take care of them and help them get over whatever had a hold on them. Unfortunately, she was unsure if tending to them would solve anything other than killing herself. From the sound of what her dad just said, people were becoming unnaturally inhumane._

" _Honey, this thing has me worried," Vincent finally confessed, "Your mother and I are already in the car on the way to Marquette. Uncle Ben and Aunt Gina are in their cars with their families following behind. I think everyone is having the same idea of leaving the city though. We've been in the same spot for hours, haven't we?"_

 _Assuming that he was asking her mom a direct question, she heard a muffled reply that gave a distressed answer. Sherry usually didn't worry when it came to things but when her dad showed signs of apprehension, it made her terrified. He was always the brave retired police officer. No one messed with her dad._

" _I have a bad feeling that this thing isn't going to be only a couple of weeks long, Sherry," Vincent said with a final tone. Sherry's heart dropped as his voice left no underlying emphasis of hope. One thing about her dad was his uncanny talent of observation and how it hardly ever failed him. For him to say such a thing with such certitude made Sherry's skin crawl. His predictions were irrevocable._

 _Sherry's apartment complex was a scene of uproar. Everyone quickly tried to leave their homes or find things to barricade doors to wait everything out from the inside. When Sherry reached her own apartment door, she could hear banging and scratching from the other side. Panicked that something was wrong, she fumbled with her keys to free her roommates of any imminent danger. Whatever caused them to get out of bed, had to be an emergency._

 _More alarm blared in her head like sirens when another college girl purposefully put an arm between Sherry and the doorway. Looking to be quite unnerved, the other girl stared at Sherry with wide pleading eyes. The disoriented feeling that Sherry once felt subsided as annoyance took its place from being blocked from her apartment._

" _Hang on one second, Dad," Sherry said quickly and stared the girl down, "What the hell are you doing? This is my place."_

" _Trust me," the girl stammered with caution, "You do not want to open that door. My roommate had a fever yesterday and this morning I woke up to her biting my arm. All of my roommates? I left them in my apartment. They are doing the same thing to my door."_

" _But I was just in there a couple of minutes ago," Sherry whispered to herself. She didn't know what to think._

 _While pondering what the girl revealed, Sherry eyed the girl's arm that barred her from entering her small home. It looked to be bandaged with poor attention but Sherry could see the bleeding that seeped through the white cloth effortlessly. Just above her forearm, deadly red veins crept upwards in alarming fashion._

" _You need to get that thing checked," Sherry advised, "It looks really bad."_

" _I have tried to call emergency services but no one is picking up," the girl disclosed calmly, "Listen, I don't know who you are but I just wanted to warn you. Do what you want. But until a doctor checks on them, I think you're safer outside."_

 _The banging and scratching continued. Sherry could feel the shock of their present situation but shook it away to remain present and alert. "Okay, I won't go in my apartment," she assured to let the girl know her prompt fell on listening ears, "I'm just going to sit right here until I can think of a new game plan."_

 _The girl appeared relieved but quickly rushed to help others. Sherry leaned against the wall next to her door and sank to the ground. With one hand on her forehead, she placed the phone back to her ear. "You said the Moritz' ate their dog?" She asked her dad._

" _Yeah," Vincent replied, "What's going on, Sher?"_

 _Sherry quickly relayed the story to her dad while her new reality started to sink in. Things were unraveling fast and she didn't know what the future held for her or anyone else on their entire planet._

 _Hearing her father breathe slowly, she knew he was thinking of a solution for her but was also keeping his fear at bay. "I need you to leave your apartment right now," Vincent urged, "You are to get out of that city with or without your friends."_

 _Just then she heard screaming from the other side of the complex followed by barbarous snarling and wailing. Girls started running in the opposite direction as one even tripped over Sherry to clear the area. Sherry recovered quickly and stood up to bolt out of the complex and towards her car. Whatever last minute items she needed to get from her apartment had to be abandoned. Adrenaline was telling her to run for her life as hell started to break loose._

" _Sweetheart! What is going on?" Her dad yelled multiple times._

" _I don't know what's happening!" Sherry shouted into the phone. She reached her car and unlocked the door with a trembling hand but upon opening it, someone lightly grabbed her shoulder. Screaming from the unexpected physical contact, she whipped around to see two men who she recognized from a mutual class that they took together. Knowing their English was broken and their primary language being Japanese, they stood before her with panic clearly evident as they stared at their surroundings in bewilderment._

" _Take us to the airport?" The shorter one nearly begged._

 _Sherry swallowed the fear she had while hearing shrieks in the distance. "Yeah," she finally obliged in a fluster as she also heard her father shouting expletives from the phone speaker, "But I'm leaving right now! If you have things to pack from your apartment, we're not getting them."_

" _We have what we need," the taller one affirmed, "We can go now."_

" _Good!" Sherry exclaimed, "Hop in!" She jumped into the driver's seat and turned on the ignition. Both of the men sat in the back while she put her dad on speaker._

" _What the fuck is going on?!" He shouted as his voice broke with emotion._

" _I'm fine," Sherry stressed as she rushed out of the driveway. Cars were already blocking the exit so she went over the curb to beat the traffic. "We just got in the car."_

" _We?" He questioned with some authority._

 _Sherry knew he hated having no control with what was happening to his only child. She could tell he had been crying out of fear that Sherry's lack of response was a fatal result._

" _Two guys that are in one of my classes," Sherry made clear, "They are from Japan and just asked me to take them to the airport so they can get back home." Sherry guessed their destination but knew it was a good assumption._

" _Sweetie," Vincent said slowly, "Airplanes have been grounded. All airports are closed."_

 _The men - who were quietly talking in Japanese with each other - stopped what they were doing when they overheard her dad announce the dreadful news. Looking to each other in horror, Sherry could only imagine the emptiness that they felt with their last hope being unachievable and futile to pursue._

" _Sher," Vincent said delicately, "we need to preserve our phone batteries. I'm going to hand the phone to your mother so you get the chance to say goodbye."_

 _Sherry swerved the car because of a bloodied body that was strewn in several places on the road. She couldn't believe the sights around her as she drove. Houses on fire, raids with windows shattered, and the sight of one man eating a fallen person made Sherry want to puke. Everything seemed bizarre and not like the world she used to know. Whether they were permanent fixtures or temporary setbacks, she didn't know._

 _On top of that, her dad sounded as if it would be the last time that she ever spoke to him. It was a voice filled with grief and misery which tugged at her heartstrings while she continued to drive amidst the chaos. "Okay… Um…" Sherry silently shed tears almost knowing that it was going to be the very last time that she ever heard his voice, "I love you, Dad. I'll see you in two weeks tops, okay?"_

 _There was a long pause. She could hear her father weeping while trying to collect himself. Sherry couldn't recall ever hearing him cry openly like that before. "I love you too, Sher," he lamented, "You will always be my everything and the most important person in the world to me. Please be safe. No matter how long this thing lasts, you promise me that you stay safe."_

 _Sherry openly wept not caring about what the guys in the back of her car thought._

" _Sher, honey, it's your Momma!" She heard her mom, Annie, say._

 _The tears kept on pouring as she tried concentrating on the road. "Mom!" She sobbed, "You'll be safe. You are going to make it to Grandma Malloy's house and be okay. As long as you are far away from the city, you will be fine. You have Dad with you."_

" _But what about my little girl?" Annie asked with heartbreak, "It's killing me that I'm not going to know where you are or if you are still alive!" Her mother sobbed loudly letting all of her emotions take over. Sherry did the same._

" _I'll be okay," Sherry said comfortingly, "I can survive all of this. Dad taught me what I need to know."_

 _There was complete silence on the other line. She knew her mother just wanted to hear words of reassurance so she decided to continue. "We are going to head towards the outskirts of town and wait everything out. We'll stay away from other people and keep low until we hear good news."_

 _There was still no sound. Not even a weep. Sherry then looked at the screen then cried in anguish as it read, "Service lost. Phone call disconnected."_

 _Present Day  
October 9, 2010  
Unknown Location_

Sherry blinked away the tears and looked somewhere other than the fire. Taking a deep sigh, she forced the memory to the back of her head and didn't want to think about it any longer. Yet she thought of it often and wondered if she would ever see her parents again.

She observed their campsite to see Haruki and Takuya both sleeping beside a tree. They asked for a ride to the airport in what seemed like ages ago. Little did she know that they would end up becoming her companions in a dystopian world. Sherry applauded both of them for acclimating to their surroundings as much as they did. Even though they both spent several years in America for schooling, they never thought it would be a permanent residence. In the six months of being amongst the group, their English improved and each became great assets to the people around them.

Their group numbers grew quickly as more survivors melded with them along the way. Within their first month, their party reached fourteen members as they fought day and night to keep everyone from harm. Unfortunately, they weren't always without casualties and lost two souls from walkers. Sherry hoped that their numbers didn't continue to dwindle.

Each group member slept soundly except for Dwight who stood watch with rifle in hand. Sherry subtly eyed him as he sat on a log fifteen feet away but then felt the small amount of shame riddle within her. It had been awhile since she last spoke to him. Out of all the people in their group, they were the ones that formed a close relationship. However, when something perilous occurred, Sherry felt herself pull away for fear that she could lose what she considered to be her most devoted friend. She hoped that if she created distance between them, it would make it less difficult if the day ever came when he would no longer be around.

Dwight slowly scanned the forest when briefly his eyes rested on her. Both locking glances for a split second, he quickly turned away and went back to business as usual while she continued studying him from afar. Sherry could see the slight embarrassment that he had for being caught staring as she sighed in resignation realizing her silent treatment should finally meet its end. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to rest on the hard forest floor for the night, she stood up and walked away from the fire towards him.

He heard her footsteps then gazed at her quizzically. "Can't sleep?" Dwight questioned.

"Do you blame me?" Sherry countered as he seemed taken aback that she replied to him at all, "I pray that we find a hotel that isn't overrun by walkers. I just want to sleep on a mattress. I'm so tired of sleeping in the dirt."

"And before the world went to shit, I was praying that the pizza delivery guy would arrive on time," Dwight teased with a smirk.

"Funny how our priorities change when we don't have the small things to worry about," Sherry stated as she took a seat beside him on the log.

Dwight watched her with a small smile. Sherry already felt it was a bad idea to talk to him in the first place. Admittedly, she _did_ feel an overwhelming attraction for him and knew if something were to happen to him, she wouldn't take it well. Dwight easily became one of the most valuable of survivors with brains, charm, and loyalty to back up that claim. He was the reason why a lot of members in their group merged forward and fought to live another day. He set an example and was able to cope with their new life in a way that no one else could.

He was ideal for any person and someone that her mom would consider a 'good catch.' A big problem for Sherry was that she knew Dwight had strong feelings for her in return.

"You've been avoiding me for a while," Dwight commented while quickly pointing out the elephant in the room. His statement held a small sense of understanding but it made Sherry feel guilty all the same.

Interlacing her fingers, she drew in a deep sigh as her shoulders slouched in remorse. "Sorry," Sherry confessed, "I've just been thinking about a lot of stuff. I think the reality has finally sunk in."

"Which part of our reality?" Dwight asked.

" _Everything_ ," Sherry exaggerated.

"Oh, yeah. _That_ existential crisis," Dwight quipped but then abruptly switched gears as any supportive friend would, "If you ever need to talk, I'm a good listener."

"I don't know if that would help," Sherry admitted. The more she spoke to him, the more she felt her bubble of comfortable isolation begin to pop.

He looked at the sleeping group and then scanned the forest in thought. One thing Sherry noticed about Dwight was that he made other's problems become his own personal obstacle and liked to fix things for the people around him. Sherry thought it a good trait but sometimes wanted to wallow in her own self-pity.

"For the sake of small talk, tell me about yourself," Dwight offered lightly while again changing the tone of their conversation.

Sherry grimaced at the invitation while her thoughts suddenly gave an image of her parents crying over the phone. "It's been a long day," she complained, "I don't really want to go down memory lane right now."

Dwight looked at her and grinned while adjusting his seat on the log to face her. "How about this?" He began, "I ask you a question and you give me a one word answer. That way it's just facts. Not that emotional stuff. How does that sound?"

Sherry exhaled while slowly standing up to walk away. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the sliver of disappointment from Dwight as he thought their conversation was over completely. Instead, she grabbed her shotgun and quickly returned to scout alongside Dwight. "It sounds a lot better than sleeping," Sherry gave in knowing she needed to rebuild a bridge with him anyways.

Smiling triumphantly, Dwight pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together. "Okay then," Dwight said and looked up to the sky in thought, "Where are you from?" Despite their close friendship, she never spoke much about her past life. They mostly discussed the durability of their group and how to fortify in a world hell-bent on their destruction. For obvious reasons, Sherry never spoke about anything beyond that. Now she basically gave Dwight permission to dig.

"You don't sound like a Southern Belle," Dwight continued, "So I can conclude you didn't grow up in Georgia like I did."

"What are you? A detective?" Sherry teased before answering his question with a huff, "Chicago."

"Did you live there your whole life?" Dwight questioned further.

"No," Sherry replied.

"Where else have you lived?" Dwight asked.

Sherry made a swivel motion with her hand that gestured around them. "Wherever we are right now," Sherry joked then tried to stifle a laugh at her own sense of humor that seemed dormant for the past six months.

Dwight chuckled at her playful banter with admiration in his eyes. "Smart ass," he commented but then proceeded with more questions, "Okay, if you could describe something that you find attractive in a guy with just one word, what word would that be?"

Sherry's eyes narrowed as he gave a sheepish smile in return. "Dwight…" she started.

"No harm in answering the question," Dwight said with a shrug, "I'm not asking on behalf of myself… I'm asking for a friend…"

"Yeah, okay," Sherry mumbled but smiled in spite of herself. Not giving the question much thought, she thought of the first thing that came to her head and rolled with it. "I like guys with beards, I guess," Sherry confessed but immediately regretted it as Dwight's eyebrows raised with a boyish grin emerging past his own disheveled beard that he sported.

"You like 'em bearded, eh?" Dwight exclaimed with a wink, "Man, you must feel like you're in heaven talking to someone like me right now."

Sherry laughed openly as she thought it was the first time that she appeared happy in a long while. "Yeah, that's exactly how I would describe my current predicament."

"Were you always this beautiful?" She then heard him ask in passing. It was slightly quieter as if he wasn't sure if he should actually say it but it took over his entire thought process regardless.

Her laughing stopped quickly as she looked surprised by his boldness. She turned to see if anyone else heard but they were still sound asleep. Sherry wished that she didn't have her long dark brown hair in a ponytail as she wanted to hide behind it. It would have been better if she could find a large boulder so she could crawl underneath it.

"Did I embarrass you?" He asked after an awkward amount of silence passed by.

"No," Sherry lied, "I just haven't really thought of myself as attractive since everything went down."

Dwight looked confused by her statement as if he couldn't fathom anyone thinking she was anything less than what he proclaimed. "Why?"

"Oh, because it's been months since I wore lipstick or a nice black dress," Sherry lightly complained, "You know, the girly stuff."

"You don't need those things, Sher," Dwight encouraged.

Sherry smiled politely as his compliment only filled her with a sadness that she forcefully burdened herself with. "Well, thanks," she responded and stood up, "On that note, I think I am going to try and sleep."

"You're done playing games with me?" Dwight asked as she started walking away. Sherry didn't know what game he was referring to: the one-worded answer game or the fact that she feigned indifference to his constant flirtations.

"Yes, I'm done," Sherry stated to end their conversation but turned around to end his chances of trying anything in the future, "I would… be lying if I said I don't feel anything for you. But I have a rule against relationships right now. So as nice as the attention is, it's making it really hard to stay friends."

"Well, if it's that difficult to stay friends, then why don't we at least try to be something more?" Dwight argued, "What can it hurt?"

Sherry was slightly annoyed that he seemed entertained by their conversation. She was _trying_ to create more distance and discourage him. "We can't be more than friends."

Immediately his smile faded from her abrupt and negative response. "Why not?"

"Until I know how to deal with this new life, I don't really want to become attached to someone who could die tomorrow," Sherry declared but looked desperately in his dark eyes to try and make him understand.

Silence ensued between the both of them as her statement seemed to get through to him. Unfortunately for her, the victorious feeling started to vanish as Dwight slowly stood and walked up to meet her toe-to-toe. Sherry wanted to disappear from the entire situation; she wanted to ignore him. However, as much as she tried, she couldn't break his purposeful gaze.

Sherry watched his eyes scan what seemed like every part of her face. Feeling her ears burn with unease, she tried to get her guard back up to let him know his attentiveness was unwarranted. Yet he continued to stare at her as she in turn took the opportunity to see him for who he was. Not being the tallest person in the world, standing at five-foot-three, she craned her neck up to stand her ground. Yet as she pretended the vulnerability wasn't there, she instead accidentally opened a door to let him in.

"Well…" Dwight started while breaking the quiet, "with that logic, you just said that life is short. Don't you want to enjoy it as much as you can?"

Sherry let his question deepen. It _had_ been a long time since she considered her life enjoyable; only because she kept her distance away from the group. They had all formed bonds with each other and invited her to do the same. She only wished to contribute in any way that she could and keep them safe. Her emotional attachments were maintained at a minimum. However, it still didn't hold the sadness at bay when a member of their group passed on from her shortcomings as their protector.

Gazing at Dwight, he continued to watch her with a hope evident in his demeanor. She was about to say that she could try and make more of an effort and follow his suggestion. Maybe she _could_ take a chance on Dwight. She knew that he could make her happy. But the thought of him being a big part of her existence - only to be taken away without warning - scared her to death. She then realized that he _already_ was the most indispensable person in her life.

With a deep sigh, she moved closer to him in resignation but her heart felt elated from the personal achievement all the same. She _was_ about to say that she would take a chance. As if expecting the good news, Dwight breathed with a smile forming.

But then she stopped and heard something faint in the distance. Dwight's grin faded away, no longer looking to Sherry but to the woods instead.

They were not alone.

Both raising their guns towards the darkness, they waited for a follow-up noise to present itself. Sherry had a terrible feeling that whatever was hiding in the shadows, wasn't a walker. An undead being would have emerged upon their camp without thinking of strategies to ensnare its prey. Whatever it was had to be lethal.

Looking in the direction where they last heard the shudder of leaves, another noise sounded directly behind them. To their surprise, they both turned to see a man. He wasn't undead – exactly what Sherry predicted before - and looked healthy. Putting both of his hands up in surrender to show he meant no harm, Dwight and Sherry placed their guns down in unison as if to mirror his sign of peace. Sherry still held her gun tightly while she scrutinized their newcomer with distrust. Something already felt off.

Dwight motioned for the man to come sit on the log with him. The man graciously complied and rubbed his hands together while taking advantage of the warm air around the campfire. This was one of the first times that they had run into another living human being in nearly a month. Other survivors were rare but also sometimes dangerous. They were fortunate to never run into men that were power hungry or greedy.

Something about their new friend gave Sherry the chills. He was almost as tall as Dwight and Sherry couldn't help but find him slightly handsome with his rugged features and friendly disposition. Her gun wasn't raised however her guard wasn't down. She wondered why she felt so uneasy about the man. Whether it be his entrance onto the camp or something else, his presence was incredibly off-putting.

Sherry opened up a can of soup for the man who sat on the log beside Dwight. When her eyes were off him, she could feel his eyes on her. Not knowing someone made her anxious. Perhaps he was harmless. She still anticipated more information about him only to read him better and hoped that that would put her more at ease.

"What's your name?" Dwight questioned the stranger.

The man smiled at Dwight and shook his head in disbelief. "It's nice to hear another person talk for once," the man said. Sherry noticed how he avoided the question with a comment.

Dwight smiled and stuck his hand out in greeting as the man accepted the gesture with a firm shake. "You been alone for long?" Dwight inquired.

"A very long time," the man responded with an over exaggerated voice, "I saw your bonfire and decided to make myself known." The man then turned to Sherry and nodded his head. "I apologize for scaring you, ma'am."

Sherry smiled politely in his direction and poured the can of soup in a pot that sat beside the fire. The man appeared kind but Sherry couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to run for the hills. "You didn't," she practically challenged him to counter the fear she felt in that moment.

Looking him up and down and knowing a small amount of his back story, Sherry could see that it didn't match up with his appearance. All he said was that he had been alone for a long period of time however, his guise seemed too well-kept. Outwardly, his clothes were unstained from sweat, blood, and dirt unlike the survivors in her group. His chummy behavior was also a red flag as Sherry would imagine being alone would prevent such social skills. With only a sheath for a small blade, he had no other belongings on his person. It wasn't just a hunch. Sherry knew he was a potential endangerment to her group.

He smiled and it revealed his deep dimples from underneath his five o'clock shadow. "What's your name, sweetheart?" He questioned in a deep voice.

"Sherry," she responded shortly, "I don't remember you saying your name though."

He looked down at his hands and turned to Dwight as if she didn't say anything. "How many people do you have here?"

"We have twelve people," Dwight answered slowly and looked to Sherry as if picking up on her apprehension, "We have just been travelling from place to place since the outbreak began. Just trying to find the right spot to settle down." Dwight sounded less friendly to the stranger as Negan looked back to Sherry with a look that seemed hungry.

"Can I join your group?" The man seemed to ask Dwight but still had his gaze fixed on Sherry.

Sherry looked up from tending to the soup and stared him down. "We don't know who you are," she stated as sternly as she could. "We need to know more about you. If you can't give us answers then you can start walking in the other direction."

The man looked at Sherry with amazement. "Tell it like it is, don't you?"

"We have a decent amount of people in our group. More than most. But that doesn't mean that we have been without trouble in the past six months," she warned, "I would like to know that you are the right fit for this group before we let you in."

He stood up and moved closer to her as she remained tall to meet his questioning gaze. Dwight straightened up on full alert as the man stood nose to nose with Sherry while avoiding any sense of personal space. "You in charge?"

Sherry looked to Dwight and noticed his finger was already on the trigger of his rifle. "We all contribute," Dwight said in a harsh voice as the air was quickly escalating onto dangerous ground, "No one is in charge."

The man put his hands up in surrender again and let out a chuckle. "Your group is awfully skittish."

Sherry made sure not to break eye contact with the man. "How many people are with you?" She finally asked.

He looked baffled by her question and almost guffawed at her accusation.

She continued, "There were two noises before you entered our camp. They came from opposite directions. How many men are with you?"

The next few moments played out seemingly in slow motion as the stranger grabbed Sherry's middle and turned her around. She tried to point her gun at him but felt his small blade already at her throat. Elbowing him in the stomach, he groaned slightly at her resistance but pressed the knife further onto her skin as blood began to seep down to her shirt. The stranger relented slightly but still kept the weapon close to let her know he would do it again if necessary. Although she doubted his next violation would be a mere warning.

Men quickly began emerging out of the forest and poking their guns menacingly at the sleeping group. Instantly, sounds of confusion turned into fear while they each awoke to a helpless situation.

"Drop your fucking weapon, sweetheart," the stranger cautioned while Sherry could feel his lips on her ear. On instinct, and with equal repulsion, she tried to squirm away from his grasp. The knife then settled in on already pierced skin which gave her no choice but to practically lean her head back on his shoulder to make the pain stop.

Dwight kept his aim on the stranger but also had dozens of gun barrels pointed in his direction. He stood tall but Sherry prayed he wouldn't shoot their aggressor as it would only determine his own inevitable death. Sherry's shotgun remained in her gripped hands while mentally unable to part with the only source of security that she had.

The man kept one arm around her waist as his other hand held the knife to her neck. "Your friend is right, Sherry," he said almost in a playful voice, "You are a fucking sight to see. It really would be such a goddamn shame to see you be put down. Fucking waste with a body like this, wouldn't it be boys?" His men vocalized their leader's sentiments while his fingers dug into her middle. Sherry inhaled sharply as he shushed her to be quiet once more. "I'm a nice guy. To prove that, I'll make you a deal. If you drop your gun, I spare your life, easy as that. But if you don't do as I ask…" He stopped while letting the alternative option be open for interpretation, "You wouldn't be the first woman that I had to shoot in the face because she was being too motherfucking stupid."

Sherry clutched onto her gun and breathed sharply thinking it could possibly be her time to go. Looking at Dwight, who only had sights on the man, she realized that this moment was bigger than herself. If the stranger killed Sherry, Dwight would surely kill him in return before her body hit the ground and would set a complete battle between the man's group and hers. Worry started to swarm her entire being as full realization came into play; keeping her gun affected a lot more than just herself.

As if the man read her mind, his body began facing each individual person in her group while they all stared back at him in horror. "Okay, obviously you don't value your life as much as I thought you did," he muttered before clearing his throat, "Eenie, Meanie, Miney, Moe…" Sherry's heart raced and wondered what psychotic game he was playing at. Not able to see his eyes, Sherry still saw which person he was looking at from the expression on each of her friend's faces when his gaze landed on them. Even the kids weren't excluded from his childish chant that he mumbled under his breath.

"…And…you…are…it," he proclaimed as Sherry watched Hannah's face sink in complete despair. Hannah was the matriarch of their group. An older woman, she made sure that everyone had been fed and that they all received enough sleep. With his hand that held the knife, the man pointed with his index finger toward Hannah. Many people in their group began to sob as they knew what her fate potentially was while some stared at Sherry in desperation.

"What about _her_ life?" The man questioned.

Sherry immediately tossed the shotgun as it landed to the wayside. Everything seemed quiet for several seconds with their group waiting for the man to deliberate what his next action would be. His grip eased but before Sherry could breathe a sigh of relief, he shoved her to the ground as she landed on her knees. Thrusting his foot onto her back, she laid onto her stomach at the same time she saw Dwight attempt to step forward only to be blocked by several burly guys who worked for the menacing stranger.

The man motioned to Hannah and then glanced towards the men at his command, "Kill her."

"No!" Sherry yelled while trying to sit up, "I did what you asked! I put my gun down!"

The man then grabbed Sherry by her ponytail and yanked her upright. Screaming in pain and sorrow, the tears started streaming down Sherry's face as the peril of their situation seemed less likely to have a good resolution. He crouched down and put his mouth to her ear once more when a sob broke through her mouth.

"You are coming with us," the man spat in a forced whisper. Standing up straight, he surveyed the rest of the group – all of which were now on their knees beside Dwight. Hannah sat while crying openly. The rest looked on in helplessness.

"You are _all_ coming with us!" The man exclaimed with enthusiasm, "Sherry will not be your leader anymore. Your new leader will be me! Sherry has made a bad mistake. She didn't do as I asked the first time that I asked her to do it." The man let go of Sherry's hair and stepped over to Hannah who shut her eyes while silently muttering a prayer.

"So…" The ruthless leader continued as he stood right behind Hannah and patted her gray hair, "On behalf of your old leader, I apologize, ma'am." In seconds, he lodged the knife into her neck as blood spewed everywhere. Shaking with disbelief and complete terror, Sherry had to look away. The small McCoy family huddled together as their mom tried to cover her children's eyes from the traumatic sight in front of them. The young girl named Jenna screamed as her adopted mother, Yolanda, hugged her close. The group member, Dean, looked on in shock as he watched his dear friend perish.

Hannah's body fell to the forest floor. Sherry could hear the others in her group screaming as if they sounded further away in the distance. In her anger, Sherry impulsively stood on her feet and stormed towards the man. Without a second thought, she slapped him across the face while feeling the sting on her palm. Not waiting for him to retaliate, she pushed at his chest while he was still recovering from her previous hit.

A force bashed the back of her head sharply as she stumbled a bit with a cold sweat breaking through every pore. In her stagger, she nearly ran into her assailant but tried to steady herself and stay focused on killing him for what he did to Hannah. However, her eyes started seeing black dots while images played out in brief flashes. The man grabbed for her before she fell to the ground. There were branches and stars above her as the feeling of floating kicked into effect. Screams continued with an echo but began to fade away. The last distinct thing she heard was Dwight call her name one more time.

And then she passed out.

…

Present Day

October 11, 2010

Unknown Location

Sherry awoke while crying in complete anguish. She wished that whatever hit her on the back of the head had been fatal. Hannah's death was her responsibility and she no longer wanted to live with herself or the crushing guilt. _I could've just listened,_ Sherry lamented to herself. Refusing to open her eyes, she just laid in fetal position and wept uncontrollably.

As she cried, she became aware of her surroundings before daring to open her eyes. Underneath her, she felt a mattress. Around her were several blankets that cocooned her nicely. When she turned her head, bandages would crinkle from the wound she received before passing out. Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened her eyes and saw that she was in a bedroom.

 _Where are we?_ She thought while gazing around the room. The light fixture beside the door was in working condition which left Sherry a little surprised. In the past six months, they lived like Neanderthals where the existence of electricity seemed impossible. The sight made her even wonder if she was no longer alive and was perhaps in a paradisiacal afterlife. However, reality slipped back when she felt the throbbing pain on the back of her scalp and decided to take her moves very slow knowing she was very much a human being who still had mortal wounds.

The questions continued to swarm around her. Did her group escape the men that attacked their bonfire? Did Dwight carry her to safety? Where were her friends? Did more people die after Hannah?

Seeing the light made her wonder if they had finally discovered a safe zone. Allowing herself to stay in bed, she thought of her next move. Despite the unanswered questions, she could admit it was easy to fall for the illusion of safety. Regardless of the outcome, she decided to enjoy the time of peace whether it was a farce or not.

The content feeling wore off quickly when the door opened. Still laying down, she saw Dwight warily step into the room. He avoided eye contact as the rotten feeling in the pit of her stomach increased. Regardless, she stood up and rushed toward him in relief that he was alive. Already feeling dizzy from jolting out of bed, she held him close for support and comfort. More caution flags were raised when Dwight didn't immediately hug her back. Something was off about how he usually carried himself.

"Where are we?" She asked as she broke away from him.

Sherry noticed his crossbow that was strapped to his back. A couple of months ago, he had to abandon his old crossbow when a herd of walkers came upon their group suddenly. There wasn't any time for getting personal belongings. Sherry remembered losing her cell phone that same night and cried herself to sleep for weeks. It was her only assurance that she could one day contact her parents again. Or that _they_ would be able to contact _her._ Now she wasn't sure how or if there would ever be an opportunity to do so.

"We're in a place called Sanctuary," Dwight answered in a low voice, "You've been out for nearly two days."

"Two days?" She stammered in disbelief. Looking down, she saw she was wearing a black tank top and shorts. Two items that she had never possessed in her small backpack while on the road.

Dwight noticed her questioning stare and clarified. "It was all I could find that looked comfortable to sleep in."

Her eyes looked confused while attempting to process each piece of information that Dwight gave. "Sanctuary? Is this a safe zone? _Who_ dressed me?"

Dwight straightened defensively at her last question. "Yolanda dressed you," he explained, "I wouldn't touch you like…" His voice drifted off as he took a deep breath with exhaustion evident on his face. "Sher, what I'm about to tell you… You need to know that I didn't have a choice."

"Whose camp is this?" She immediately asked knowing that they didn't reach a safe zone of any kind.

"Sanctuary belongs to the man that attacked our group the other night," Dwight began and sat on her bed. He rubbed both hands to his forehead before continuing then took another exhale. "They dragged us all back to their base."

Sherry stayed still while the information finally hit her. Stepping backwards, she then made her way to the window in the bedroom. With frustration, she flung the drapes open and pulled the blinds up to see outside. On the second floor of a brick building, she looked outside to see a cleaned up street that had been rid of any signs of an apocalypse.

"Where's our group?" She asked and started walking towards the door.

Dwight quickly got up from the bed and stood in front of the doorway to block Sherry from leaving. "Sherry, I'm sorry," Dwight said quietly with shame, "You can't leave this room. That was his orders."

Sherry tried to read what was going on in Dwight's head and felt his reaction was spurred from something that occurred when she was unconscious. "Dwight," she started with desperation in her voice, "What the hell is wrong with you? We can't stay with these people."

"We don't have any other choice!" Dwight confessed with helplessness and put both of his hands on her shoulders. He stared into her eyes as Sherry held onto his forearms to steady herself. Her head injury and his revelation made her head feel light.

"Negan wants to talk with you," Dwight grimaced and looked to the floor.

"Negan?" Sherry echoed as she thought of the man who came to their camp, "The guy who killed Hannah?! Dwight, I don't understand what is going on! Why are you listening to anything he has to say?"

"Sherry, if you knew all of the details, you would have done _everything_ he asked you to do," Dwight defended as his fingers tensed when he said it, "I'm trying to keep everyone safe."

"What does he want from us?" Sherry asked fearfully, "Our group has _nothing_ to give him."

"It's not that easy to tell you," Dwight deplored with a melancholy that she had never heard from him before. He looked down to the floor unable to form the words that Sherry immediately understood carried some weight.

Seconds passed as he stared up at her again with longing. "One day," Dwight started, "I promise to make things better for you, Sherry. I promise. We're in a fucked up situation right now."

"Dwight?" She whispered with her voice shaking. She reached her hand up to the side of his face as she saw how tormented he was at the news which he was forced to tell her. Whatever the news was, it affected him as much as it affected her. "Please tell me what that man wants."

"He wants _you_ ," Dwight revealed in a tone that sounded completely deflated and depressed, "He said that if you don't comply with his every request, he will kill our whole group. Every single one of us. He also said… He also said that he'll save you and you would have to do what he said anyways. If I knew a way around this, I would try and get you out of it. I am so sorry."

Sherry blinked several times and when she opened her mouth to speak, no sound followed. She was in complete shock. Dwight eased his grip on her as she walked to the window again and tried to focus on what his words even meant.

Negan _wanted her._ The words immediately gave her a discomfort as it sank in. Unsure of what his request actually entailed, she could only imagine the worst case scenario and closed her eyes at the thought. She then paced the bedroom while Dwight watched her intently. Chewing on her bottom lip, she tried to formulate a plan. There had to be _something_ that could get them out of their situation.

Minutes later, she glanced up to Dwight. "Where are our people?"

"They are in another part of the building," Dwight responded, "He is holding them hostage until you reach a decision."

"And if I said no, he was going to kill them all just like that?" She asked knowing how much that piece of information veered her decision making, "Why aren't you with them?"

Dwight stirred in place as his nose flared. "Negan thought it appropriate for me to give you the message before he talked to you himself." He stopped and shook the anger off. "He's a messed up motherfucker."

"No chance of escape?" She asked.

"Sher, Negan has hundreds of men out there," Dwight disclosed, "I would say the odds of escape are very slim."

"Shit," Sherry whispered as their new existence rushed to her brain like a broken dam, "I can't believe this is happening to me." She sat on her bed as Dwight sat down beside her. Moments passed while she thought of her circumstance. Their lives were not short of despair since the virus took over the world. But this seemed to top all of the tragedies that ensued in six months' time. She thought of all the members of her group. Among them were three young children. They were innocent of the evils of the new world. They didn't deserve to die because she decided against being whatever Negan wanted her to be. And regardless of her answer, she would still reach the same outcome. But if she put up a fight, there would be blood on her hands.

Shock and denial blanketed a reaction that would have made her weep for days. The facts were the only thing that resided within her while she forced the emotions to stay behind for another day. "There really isn't another way out of this," she said quietly.

Dwight looked at her and she looked at him. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, "At least not yet." If there was a way to get out of her gruesome future, he would try and find it. Sherry knew him to be trustworthy, loyal, and morally just. He was the opposite of Negan in every way.

Sherry lifted her face up and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. "I'll do it," she stated bravely.

Dwight put one arm around her in comfort as she sank into his embrace. He kissed her forehead tenderly. "I wish I could have provided for you, Sherry," he stated coarsely while trying to hide emotion, "I wish this was a better world for us to live in."

She looked at him and put her face close to his in much needed comfort. Instantly, he closed the distance between them and kissed her on the lips. Sherry was surprised at first but became soothed by the act and returned the gesture. He put his arms around her waist as more tears erupted from her eyes in complete and utter sorrow. She remembered him saying that life was too short. Now she understood and wished she had taken the opportunity to be more than friends with him sooner. She didn't know when she was ever going to receive another loving human interaction like the one she was sharing with Dwight. She savored in the moment thinking it was going to be one of the last sweet memories of her life. Their kiss slowed as he broke away but still held the small of her back with his hand.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way," he said regretfully.

"You and I both, Dwight," Sherry responded wholeheartedly.

"I'm getting you out…" Dwight started but was cut off from the doorknob turning.

The door opened as Dwight quickly put distance between themselves as if their interaction didn't happen. A man emerged from the doorway whom she didn't recognize and stared at Dwight. "Orlich, you're needed elsewhere," he ordered sternly as if it weren't up for discussion.

Dwight looked at her once more and stared back at the man with hidden indignation. "Do what you gotta do, Sher," he said to her and left.

…

Sherry stared at the door with no desire to see what was on the other side. She sat on the bed until sundown while deliberating what her next move would be. Her head ached with too many thoughts running through her mind. As much as she wanted to find a way out of her situation, she couldn't think of a single solution.

Being the de factor leader along with Dwight, her group relied on her to protect them. It was her quick decision making that led her people to safety more than once. Rarely did she show any signs of vulnerability only to be strong for them. She had nothing else as her own life was of little importance to her. Surviving for others gave her a higher purpose in their fragile existence.

Nevertheless, accepting the offer was a painful choice.

 _I never let my people down before,_ she thought to herself while staring at the wooden door. It served as her barrier from the unknown world that threatened to swallow her whole. Drawing in a deep breath she refused to let Negan's offer fully hit her. Not wanting to know all the details to his request, she decided to accept it blindly. If she thought too much about it, it would only take away from her fast-thinking in the future. Getting her group out of Sanctuary took precedence.

 _Six months maximum,_ Sherry thought, _His guard will be down and our people will go free. I'll slit his throat in the middle of the night. Like he slit Hannah's throat. Eye for an eye._ She quickly felt guilt for relishing in someone's death. Justifying herself, she knew he was no ordinary man. He was a murderer. Negan – as Dwight called him – was a killer. Already she could tell he reveled in showing off the control he had to the ones who couldn't physically stop him. She hoped one day that would change.

Steps drew closer to the door from the outside. Her heart stopped when hearing the noise stop as shadows of two feet could be seen from the floorboards. Sherry slowly made her way off the bed and walked towards the door to finally get rid of the suspense. _Six months max,_ she reminded herself, _then we're gone._

The figure hadn't yet knocked on the door as Sherry just opened it herself. The entrance to the outside world was blocked by Negan who had one hand up as if to make himself known with the door that was no longer there. He smiled at the humor in the situation but it made Sherry feel repulsed. Regardless, she stepped to the side to let him in her room.

He strode slowly into the small space as he eyed every part of her body. Folding her arms over her middle for extra cover, she equally scrutinized him up and down to size him up. It made it more troubling for her to see that physically, he was easy on the eyes. But the actions he partook of a couple of nights before had forever tainted her view of him.

"So Dwight tells me that you came to a decision," Negan said while breaking the silence.

"I did," Sherry answered boldly, "But I would like to know what it is you want me to do. Whatever it is, I agree to it. I don't really have a choice. But I still would like to know."

Negan looked around the room and chuckled as if admiring her naïveté. He then nodded towards the bed and sat down while waiting for her to accept the seat beside him. Sherry followed him slowly but sat several feet away. He scooted closer and greatly minimized the distance between them then brought a hand to stroke her hair that rested on her back. Shivers crept up her spine and her body tensed as she dreaded what he was about to say. She thought perhaps he wanted her to be one of his fighters. Perhaps he would ask her to be a mindless soldier under his name.

His body language said contrary.

"This is fucking proposal, ma'am," Negan exclaimed proudly as Sherry winced from his booming voice, "Congratu-fucking-lations! You are to be Mrs. Negan. Just do everything I say and your group will be safe in Sanctuary. They are going to have to pull their own weight though. If they don't, my rules will override whatever deal we have between us. The men will be armed and trained to be in my army. The women will do laundry and other shit gals do to make our jobs easier. I'm sorry I am not down on one knee to make this fucking more romantic but I personally don't give a fuck about that shit."

He clapped his hands together to indicate that he finished what he needed to say. Sherry appeared dumbfounded at all of his words as she stared at him with wide eyes. "You want me to be your wife?!"

"Fuck yeah, look at you," Negan marveled with a wink, "I can't wait for our time together."

Sherry closed her eyes and dropped her head as the concreteness of her decision felt like a slap across the face. She was signing her soul, her body, and her mind to him. And she despised him for blackmailing her into something so sick and blatantly cruel. He had all the control in her future and treated it with no respect or remorse. Instead, it was filled with mockery towards her position and where they both stood.

As if he read her thoughts, he took both of her hands in his then rested them on his chest. "Sherry," he started with a surprisingly different tone then before. "If you love me and take care of me, I will treat you like a queen. That's all I ask." He raised one of her hands to his face as the sincerity in his tone was evident by his demeanor.

Sherry leaned away from him and blocked herself from thinking of his proposal any further. She had already made up her mind and needed to move on before she considered slitting her wrists. "Okay," she whispered but heard her voice break.

Negan put his hands on both sides of her jaw and kissed her fiercely. She didn't expect the passion that came from behind the kiss or the actual kiss at all. In comparison to the sweet kiss that Dwight gave her earlier, Negan's affection didn't hold the same weight for her. It only made her detest Negan more than she already did.

"I need to see my group," Sherry blurted while breaking their lock, "I need to know that they are okay." Angry tears stung her eyes as she quickly blinked them away. _It isn't about me anymore,_ she reminded herself once again.

Negan nodded and pointed at the door. "After you."

He waited for her to step out of the room as Sherry did so with trepidation. Crossing into the unknown scared her beyond imagination. She didn't know what the future held for her or for the people she cared about. She could only pray for the best.


	2. Act 1: Chapter 2

**Act 1**

 **Chapter 2**

 _Present Day_

 _Early October 12, 2010_

 _Sanctuary_

It was like walking through a nightmare.

Six months had passed since the outbreak began. Throughout that time, Sherry lived in constant fear. Yet, for that duration, her group proved to rely on one another, find enough food every day, and make shelters when in barren locations. It wasn't perfect and it didn't always alleviate the heartache.

However, walking side by side with Negan made her feel otherwise. As they strode slowly down the never ending hallway, Sherry wished for nothing more than another night sleeping on the forest floor with her people.

Sherry felt hollow. Between the time that she spoke to Dwight and Negan, she had a couple of hours to reflect on their future in Sanctuary. When Dwight said that Negan wanted her, she naively assumed it was for combat or work within his community. Never in a thousand years did she think it was a proposal. Regardless of how she felt about him, she accepted his offer for the sake of her people.

There were no other emotions rolling through her head. Whether it was denial or shock, she didn't know. She didn't feel like crying for herself. It was simply a new reality that she felt obligated to adjust to.

The lights flickered on and off in a frenzy while the electricity gave an eerie buzzing noise. Already, Sherry could tell her temporary holding place had been a false pretense in comparison to the other rooms that they passed. The tiles beneath her feet were filthy with dark smeared stains that danced in swirls along the entirety of the floor. It didn't take long for Sherry to realize that it was dried up blood.

"Where are your people?" Sherry wondered out loud.

"They don't like being in this wing of the building," Negan admitted as a smile crept upon his face, "Do you blame them?"

"What happened here?" Sherry inquired. The narrow hallway combined with Negan's broad shoulders gave her claustrophobia. Even the thought of touching the wall made her squirm as they were bashed in with the same crimson splotches. What was worse, Sherry saw five long lines trail horizontally in brief spots. _Fingernails,_ Sherry thought then imagined one poor soul being dragged against his will to meet a fatal end.

Negan didn't respond to her question. _What the hell is this place,_ she pondered in her mind.

The old world contrasted starkly to what the building had become. Sherry could deduce that the large domicile was once a court house to the small town that was now Sanctuary. Forgotten signs suggested business of jury duty, licenses of all sorts, and the DMV. Once being summoned for jury duty, Sherry remembered it being one of the most dreadful experiences in all of her life.

She didn't know better.

Now, she would welcome back all the trivial things in their previous life with open arms.

Every so often, Sherry would dare glance up towards Negan only to see him beaming from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas morning. Aware of her inquisitiveness, Negan would meet her gaze with a wink. Visibly disgusted, Sherry would stare down at the floor in silence.

As denial began to fade, disgust was the first emotion that entered her mind. Repulsion was an insufficient way to describe how Sherry felt. Negan conned her into being his wife. The thought was mortifying. Already she felt suffocated as if she had just sold her very soul to the devil. Not given any other viable option, Negan successfully backed her into a corner and squeezed like a vicious cobra.

 _Oh God,_ she prayed inwardly, _what have I done?_ Coming from a strong Irish-Italian Catholic family, she prayed often during the first several weeks of the apocalypse. She didn't know if her prayers helped her outcome but continued just in case it improved her odds. Admittedly, she understood her prayers to be the result of blind faith. However, she resolved herself to be a believer until proven that it was a waste of time.

After they got out of the hallway, Negan led her down a winding staircase that opened into a once beautiful lobby area. The blood instantly stopped at the hallway entrance as Sherry turned around to look at the flickering lights that illuminated that particular wing of the court house. Without Negan explaining it to her, she concluded that the hallway she just exited was used for the strongest of punishments. She pondered how many of Negan's enslaved were fortunate enough to make it out of that wing alive.

They reached the main floor and walked into a much shorter hallway. After a few seconds, Negan stepped in front of her then reached for the doorknob to her right. The door opened with a dragged out creaking noise as Sherry stared into the space that Negan intended for her to enter. Beyond the threshold were stairs that led to a darkened cellar. Suddenly, she heard several whimpers from children who she knew belonged to her group. Relieved to hear them alive, Sherry shouldered past Negan then bolted down the stairs to see them face to face.

The basement was cold and uninviting. A constant dripping noise could be heard in the distance. Reaching the bottom stair, she gave her eyes enough time to adjust to the faint lighting then saw her group in the center of the room. Guarded by five armed men, her people all huddled close for protection and comfort. Hands were tied behind their backs as each face wore either exhaustion or shock.

Sherry fought the sob forming in her throat but then focused on the blood streaked across the floor. Beside Dwight sat Jason who had a bruised eye and many severe cuts on his face. Glancing at Jason's wife, Terri, and his two sons, they had fresh tear lines streaming down their cheeks. Horrified that Jason had been battered in front of his own family, she immediately turned around to glare at Negan.

"You let this happen to him?" Sherry accused with her voice immediately rising.

"Sherry…" Jason gruffed quietly with concern. Terri shushed him harshly as if begging her husband to stay quiet.

"No!" Sherry interrupted and came toe to toe with Negan, "No, we had a deal! I agreed with your bargain for one reason. How do I know that you can give me your word?" She arched her neck to meet his dark, menacing eyes.

Negan simply scoffed at her boldness yet smiled regardless. "We only made that agreement all of fucking five minutes ago," he said in a calm voice, "Now that it's all set in stone, your group will be safe."

"Bullshit," Sherry spat.

One of the guards stepped forward and unfolded a collapsible baton. The other guards then took the same action with their knives or guns pointed at Sherry. She grinded her teeth in anger while keeping her temper in check.

"Want us to take care of her, Negan?" The first guard offered.

"No, that's alright, Connor," Negan answered smugly. At his words, the five guards stepped down and re-holstered their weapons. The young girl, Jenna, began to weep in her adopted mother's arms. Sherry knew they were stuck. Her group was outmanned, outgunned, and outmatched in every way possible. However, stepping down was a trait that Sherry did not possess.

"Would you like to voice your concerns again, Sherry?" Negan asked coldly.

Sherry said nothing and looked at nobody in particular. She only stared at Negan's black leather jacket and thought about how much she wanted to stick a blade right through it.

Negan whistled then began to chuckle at her lack of response. "She is stubborn," he marveled, "But she's also smart. Sherry, how many people are in your group? Go ahead and look at them all if you need to do a headcount."

Not wanting to do anything that Negan asked her to do, she looked away from them and towards the stairs.

"She's not the most willing," Negan commented under his breath then leaned down to her eye level, "Don't make me grab your fucking neck so I _make_ you look your people in the eye."

At the threat of Negan touching her, she reluctantly stared amongst her group with her anger immediately vanishing. Sorrow took its place as some of them stared down at the floor or directly at her.

"I seem to recall there is one less member from a couple of days ago," Negan cruelly reminded, "Do you want to choose who dies next or should I?"

Sherry saw Yolanda tighten her grip on Jenna protectively as the younger boys began to cry. Takuya and Haruki immediately stared at the guards who seemed to eye the small group like their prey. The only ones who looked unafraid were Dwight and Jason. Instead, they both appeared enraged.

"Stop," Sherry whispered and grabbed Negan's arm.

"Ask nicely," Negan teased while pointing a finger randomly at Yolanda, "Eenie…"

"Negan, please stop," Sherry urged. The emotion in her voice rang evident.

Bringing his arm down, he then glanced towards Sherry with a different countenance and smiled warmly. "Survival beats stubbornness," Negan concluded, "Every time."

With a grin still smeared on his face, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. From a passerby's perspective, it would appear as if his closeness was a deep affection and that they had been in love for many years. In contrast to the real situation, Sherry found it odd that he could appear so frighteningly normal while also partaking in the immorality that he did.

He took one breath into Sherry's ear then let out a short laugh. "But if you ever raise your voice like that again," Negan seethed in a tone that made Sherry's blood run cold, " _you_ are going to pay. I fucking promise you that."

Sherry's group observed their interaction together while she hung her head unable to meet their eyes any longer. Satisfied with Sherry's silence, Negan stepped back and began to go over Sanctuary's guidelines. She wasn't used to being the one that was bossed around. Negan continued to instruct them about Sanctuary's codes but all she could do was stare at him with resentment. She wished that she had asked him more about what her bleak future entailed. However, she didn't have a say in the matter and instead felt her ears start burning with indignation.

Negan explained that they would all have their own homes within Sanctuary. If they chose to bunk with each other accordingly, that was their prerogative. Jason and Terri's family wanted to live in their own house. Haruki and Takuya were to stay in a house together while the rest decided to share. Negan may have presumed that their choice for being close was to appear hospitable but Sherry knew they were only bunking together for their own safety. They didn't trust his people enough to be scattered about.

"What about Sherry?" Dean piped in, "Will she live with us?"

Sherry felt a sorrow grow at his innocent question. She sympathized with Dean. Out of all the group, he was the one that was closest to their late friend Hannah. Her entire group rooted for them to enter into something stronger than friendship. There had been too much sadness in the world that it was nice to see them find joy with each other. The ache that Sherry felt in regards to Hannah returned at the thought as she forced her mind to the present.

"She isn't your concern anymore," Negan replied then gently reached for Sherry's waist. She was surprised by the gesture but didn't fight it when it seemed like he could snap at any given moment. The act was harmless enough even though his moral character - or lack thereof - still shook her.

"Sherry is going to live with me now," Negan finished.

The news slowly began to click as they each stared at one another in disbelief and wondered what possessed Sherry to agree to such a compromise. Some understood when they knew what kind of person Negan was and glanced up at Sherry with pity. The only person that didn't look at anyone was Dwight who kept his head down while he stared at the blood stains on the floor.

"All of you will be given jobs," Negan continued, "Kids will go to school, some of you will go on supply runs… You will all be valuable members amongst the Saviors in exchange for your safety from the world outside of our gates." His words rang with a hint of boasting as if they had won the lottery ticket. If the leader of Sanctuary wasn't such a crazed psychopath, Sherry would have thought that they had hit the jackpot.

"Are we prisoners?" Jason inquired boldly. He was lucky in Sherry's eyes. His wife, Terri, and their sons, Teegan and Troy, remained together despite the hardships of life. She ached for what they had. Even though Jason and Terri lost half of their children in the last six months, their family was still more complete than Sherry's.

Negan grinned at Jason's question and stared at him head on. Sherry could feel Negan's hand on her hip clam up while he still tried to appear civil towards them. "What gave you that impression?"

"Sir," Jason began, "you don't leave much of any other option. What if I said that my family and I wanted to take our chances outside the walls? I feel like we would be stopped within miles of this place and brought back here or worse."

"Then I guess you shouldn't take that chance then," Negan said with a straight face, all signs of cordiality gone in seconds. There was a small mixture of humor that Sherry could see in his eyes but from a close perspective she could also detect the underlying hostility that returned from the first time she met him.

Jason glanced at his wife with an apologetic yet hopeful smile. Terri returned the expression but it didn't read through to her eyes.

Negan gave them the rest of the protocol then signaled for his men to remove all handcuffs. Not waiting for permission, Sherry stepped away from Negan and helped Dean up from where he sat on his knees as he gave a soft thank you for the assistance. The others continued to glance at her with sympathy while being escorted up the stairs.

"This isn't right, Sherry," Dean muttered quietly, "You don't have to be with _him_."

"I don't have a choice," Sherry whispered softly back as bravely as she could.

"None of us will stand for this," Dean vowed and looked towards the rest of the group to call them over, "Dwight! Talk some sense into her!"

Negan took swift action as he gently grabbed for Sherry's elbow and pulled her away from Dean. "Come on, old man," he spurred, "On your way."

Dwight had stopped at the stairs behind their group and watched with cautious eyes. It was brief but Sherry could see the many thoughts form in Dwight's mind. The first was a look of action which faded when he saw Negan's glare fixed directly on him. Grinding his teeth, Dwight weighed his chances before breaking the stare-off and walked up the stairs. Sherry watched the interaction with puzzlement. Dwight told her that Negan specifically wanted him to give her the news. Whatever altercation took place had Dwight calculating and recalculating each step he took. Sherry's face burned red at the thought that Negan could've threatened Dwight in any way.

Negan nudged Sherry's back to have her go next after Dean. She did so in silence with no desire to speak to her new "husband." The idea of him being such a title made her cringe.

They all made it to the outdoor stairs in front of the brick courthouse as Sherry finally breathed in the fresh air for the first time since she had been in Sanctuary. She looked around the darkly lit space and saw that everything seemed fairly clean in their modest hold up. The small town almost appeared to be untouched with the exception of various small gardens in the area. She peered to the left and saw a suburban-like area with older Victorian homes and more areas of vegetation. To her right was more what looked like abandoned small businesses from an old downtown.

"You weren't kidding," Sherry breathed almost in surprise.

"About what?" Negan inquired from behind her.

"About this place," Sherry clarified not caring if the complement boosted his ego. She could admit her hatred for him but she couldn't deny that Sanctuary looked very much like a safe-zone.

She watched as some Saviors guided her group members away. Worry overtook her until she found Dwight who was staring at her from a distance. He didn't break their gaze as she could see his fear reflect her own. The contact broke when a man pushed him along so as to keep up his pace with the rest of Sherry's people. He grudgingly did so the same time Sherry went on her way with Negan.

"My people," Sherry began, "Are they safe enough?"

"Your group will be fine within our walls," Negan eased, "This is the safest place in the entire world right now. Plenty of herds have come our direction. Nothing we can't handle."

They didn't have to walk too far towards Negan's home as it was only diagonal from the courthouse. His house was an older Victorian home with a small sign on the front that was barely readable but Sherry could faintly see, " _of Historic Downtown."_ It appeared that the town had remodeled the old home to be a small museum. Sherry felt somewhat melancholy that the town's history was disregarded by Negan setting his home within its very soul.

Alarms started sounding off in her head to which she stopped while staring at the low-lit home. Negan lightly tugged her arm but she stayed perfectly still not letting him guide her in a place that could potentially put her in harm's way. They locked eyes when Sherry's apprehension turned into a harsh glare. The idea of being his wife was becoming clearer with what things he intended. Unfortunately for her, she hadn't thought it through until that moment.

"Negan," Sherry started, "what's going to happen when we get into that house?"

He smiled innocently but the sincerity couldn't be read in his eyes. "I know what you are thinking," Negan drawled while almost flattered that she was the first to bring up the subject, "And honestly, it's been a long fucking day and I'm tired. No fucking around tonight."

Her expression turned to disgust while immediately giving him dagger eyes. "I wouldn't have wanted to even if you _weren't_ tired."

"You insinuating something, Sherry?" Negan seethed, cordiality thrown out the window.

Sherry didn't let her eyes wane from his. "I should have every right to think that," Sherry clipped sharply, "What options have I been given so far? Why would I think this situation any different?"

Negan stared at her without answering immediately. His eyes briefly trailed down below her neckline but like a flick of a light switch, he grinned and met her face once more. "Contrary to your belief about our group we have a code that we live by to keep order in Sanctuary."

Sherry took a step closer to him. "Yeah? Who wrote this code? You?"

It seemed as if it had been awhile since someone took any kind of tone with Negan. His eye twitched at her defiance and his mouth formed a thin line. "I would think twice before you mouth off to me like that," he cautioned darkly.

Already being reprimanded earlier that evening, Sherry instinctively thought it best to cease any further conversations with him. However, she _needed_ to know more details about what she was getting into. She had no choice but to obey him…

 _Within reason…right?_ She questioned to herself.

Sherry would play his game if it meant her group would stay alive. Yet she didn't want to bend too far if it would only leave them all broken in the process.

In the darkness, Negan and Sherry stood inches away while both glaring at the other. She was close enough to see his eyes nearly glisten from his refusal to even blink or show any sign of weakness. He smelled of firewood and a distinct aftershave that she couldn't quite describe.

Keeping his short beard clean, Sherry could see he liked to keep a maintained appearance which contrasted his primitive survival methods. In a way, his false front was a lure. It seemed to work for the people who followed him.

"If my people are going to be part of Sanctuary," Sherry began just above a whisper, "then we need to know how exactly we are to live by your rules."

"I said most of the rules in the basement," Negan answered with a shrug but already responded with more openness and leaned in closer.

"Yeah, the basic rules," Sherry chided, "I'm talking about the rules that you have to tell the others. The 'not-so-good' people."

A dimpled smile emerged from Negan's rough exterior with his attempt to lighten the mood. "You don't look old enough to have been a cop," he teased, "Hell, you look fresh out of college. Were you a cop?"

Sherry bit the inside of her lip. Refusing to answer, she faced the fence in annoyance and rested her hands on the wood. She had only been _married_ to the hot-headed leader for no more than an hour and was already sick of him.

"Over time you will get to know all of our rules," Negan clarified while leaning against the fence with eyes only on her, "I suspect that you'll be with us for a while."

"You know that answer more than I do," Sherry muttered.

Negan whistled with a wide grin. "Shit, you _are_ one smart ass," he praised and shook his head, "You don't always have to fight me on everything. You know that, right?"

"I just like being in control of things," Sherry disclosed.

Negan's smile faltered after a moment while a quietness settled between them. He still fixed his gaze on her as she stared into the darkness of Sanctuary with no emotion.

"Sherry?" Negan finally spoke up as she nearly winced knowing that he was going to open his mouth again, "I would like what we have between us to be something good. I'm willing to offer you peace of mind."

Sherry mentally blocked herself from the sincerity behind his words. It almost sounded convincing enough to be believable. "Whatever," she replied distantly.

Just then, a group of Saviors emerged from the darkness as they walked on the sidewalk next to the white fence. At the sight of Negan, they all started chanting Negan's name over and over again while they continued to stride past. Once they were a good distance away, all of them went about their business as if nothing happened.

Sherry pointed at them with her thumb then looked to Negan in question. "What the hell was that?"

"I'm in charge," Negan informed her, "They know it. That's all it was."

"Did anyone really vote you in as the leader?" Sherry questioned.

Negan didn't answer but gave her a side glance with a scoff.

"You took that title then," Sherry mumbled purposefully pushing his buttons to understand where her boundaries were with him. Ideally, she hoped that she had enough freedom to speak openly when the situation demanded it. However, she didn't want her people to pay the price if she ran her mouth too much for Negan's taste.

"I earned it like every other dictator before me has," Negan remarked simply.

"Well, at least you know to call yourself just that," Sherry responded sardonically.

He chuckled low at her comment but then sighed almost in contentment. "You know, Sherry," he started, "I wasn't lying when I said that I would treat you like a queen. In Sanctuary, you will be."

Sherry ground her teeth at the thought while despising what rested before her. No amount of extra luxury or special attention would change her mind. Turning towards Negan, she scowled at him with eyes as slits. "The second that we have a chance to get out of here, we're taking it. You aren't going to do anything about it because we'll be long gone."

His eye twitched again. Then in a quick moment, Negan forcefully grabbed her arm and guided her towards his house. Her heart raced at the spontaneous action as she looked to the Victorian home with dread.

"For the first couple of weeks… or months depending on how you behave," Negan began while practically dragging Sherry up the porch steps, "you are going to be in another room while handcuffed."

He opened the door with one hand while maintaining a vise-like grip on Sherry's forearm. She could hardly put up any struggle as he had the brute strength of an ox. Forcing her into the dark house, he then walked up some stairs nearby the door with Sherry following reluctantly behind.

"By morning," he continued, "you'll be on your own and free to do whatever the fuck you want. I have a couple of people in mind to be your escorts while I take care of some business. You will not escape. And you're not allowed to even think it. Hope I make myself clear."

He led her into a quaint looking bedroom which was over-decorated with many quilts. Finally letting go of her arm, Negan patted the mattress as if coaxing her to approach. "This is where you'll sleep," Negan invited, "My bed is across the hallway. Until you trust me, I can't trust you. I know we got off on the wrong foot and I'll try and fix that. Right now, I don't trust you sleeping next to me."

"Whose fault was that?" Sherry replied snidely in the darkness.

Negan said nothing to defend himself and only waited for her to take a step towards the bed. Sherry had watched the same man stick a blade in an old woman's throat merely days ago. He was a murderer. Yet, she still fought him and wanted to prove that while he controlled most of her existence, she would continue to stand up to him. Regardless if deep down she was truly terrified.

With hesitance, Sherry slowly made her way to the bed and sat down on the mattress. Negan then produced a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and began to clip one side to the metal bed frame and the other to Sherry's wrist. Satisfied with his work, Negan stood up straight and left without another word.

As he reached the doorway, Negan stopped and glanced back at her. "Sherry," Negan spoke softly, "I hope that I can look forward to something at the end of the day. I need something to keep me sane throughout all of this shit. I hope you believe me when I say I'm sorry."

The sincerity was there. She could see it in his eyes as they sparkled in the moonlight. Unfortunately for Negan, the death of Hannah was still a vivid memory. He killed her friend. Forgiving him after a few sentimental words seemed an insipid fantasy. She wasn't about to let him off that easily.

"I don't," Sherry whispered honestly with callousness in her voice, "Goodnight."

Almost looking pained, Negan stared into the hallway then back at Sherry with a hint of detest. "Goodnight, Sherry," he said then closed the door behind him.

…

 _Sherry continued to drive until she hit the outskirts of Atlanta but then came to a dead stop from traffic. Judging from the cars in front of them, she guessed that they had been there for a long period of time. Several drivers were talking amongst themselves while their cars had been completely turned off. She saw many sharing food, conversing, and even one guy was long boarding in between lanes to pass the time._

" _Shit," Sherry muttered underneath her breath._

" _What do we do now?" Haruki questioned._

 _Sherry tapped the steering wheel with her thumb as she contemplated their next step. "The airport is out of the question," she announced, "I'm not sending you guys to a dead end." She turned around to look Haruki and Takuya in the eyes. With apology in her voice, she continued to reiterate her concerns out loud. "You guys know that the airport isn't an option anymore, right?"_

" _Yes," Takuya replied solemnly. For the while that it took to drive from Athens to Atlanta, every emotional roadblock was touched upon during that small duration of time. At one point, Haruki was sobbing and cursing at Sherry to turn the car around when they passed the exit for the airport. Takuya calmed him down as he too was on the verge of being hysterical. Sherry could only imagine being so far away from home during what seemed like the end of the world. She at least lived in the same country that she was born in. Takuya and Haruki still felt like strangers._

 _Hours passed as they all debated what to do next. "My dad suggested that I should lay low somewhere," Sherry spoke up, "Some place where no one lives. Maybe an unpopulated place in the forest, I don't know. Somewhere that won't attract whatever is going on with everyone."_

 _Several seconds went by as the men thought amongst themselves. "We choose to stay with you," Takuya finally said as Haruki nodded in agreement._

 _Sherry was surprised at their willingness to her plan. "Okay," she began, "But if I'm being completely honest, I don't think that whatever is going on is going to let up anytime soon. We could be in the woods for a very long time. We'll try and buy what we can at this Target up ahead but I think we'll be on our own. If you guys want to back out anytime, I understand. We can part ways whenever you want."_

" _Will we have to hunt?" Haruki inquired._

 _She shrugged but then nodded her head. "I've been hunting before but my dad knew how to do it; not me."_

" _I'm a vegetarian," Haruki uttered quietly._

" _I heard the leaves make for a nice salad," Sherry muttered under her breath, "Do you guys know how to use a gun?"_

" _I don't believe in guns," Haruki professed._

 _Takuya looked less confident but nodded his agreement. "I don't either," he confessed almost in shame._

 _Sherry bit the inside of her mouth at what she heard. She thought it best not to mention that she had a handgun in her glove compartment. Her father insisted that she take one from his collection for her to keep while she attended college._

" _You guys saw what it was like in Athens," she began, "People are going crazy and I'm not your body guard. As long as you're with me, you have to learn to defend yourselves. That's the only way I know that we can survive all of this."_

" _And the airport is still closed?" Haruki asked._

" _Haruki," Sherry warned with annoyance, "If you want to go and check, you are more than welcome to."_

 _After several minutes of silence, Sherry groaned from being in the exact same spot that they had been in the last hour. With the car turned off, Sherry just people watched as she rested her feet atop the dashboard and kept the windows down. A man beside their vehicle perched a radio atop his truck and listened to it as he paced around slowly._

"This is 108.4 FM," _the radio broadcaster said in a voice that sounded frail and less bubbly than he usually sounded when Sherry would hear that station in Athens,_ "Tom Harrison speaking. Like we have said before, we are going to try and stay on the air for as long as we can to keep all you Georgians informed. No music, no call-in's, we are simply trying to give the most reliable information."

 _From her car, Sherry could see the skyline of Atlanta. Everyone in her car seemed drawn to the sight as they watched large sections of power being shut off. Lights cancelled out and gave into nothingness. Helicopters and military planes circled the area frequently with a loud presence._

"We received news from the Hartsfield-Jackson Airport several hours ago that all planes have been grounded," _Tom's voice rang out. Several others stood close to listen to what he had to say._ "Any aircraft in the sky is military. ATL said that they don't expect the flight ban to be lifted anytime soon. They gave no further comment about the current attack on location."

 _Sherry heard a soft whimper from Haruki when he heard the dreadful news from a reliable source._

"The Georgia Dome is hosting a temporary safe zone for those who need a place to stay," _Tom announced,_ "Medical personnel from Grady Hospital are offering their services as well as Atlanta Police Department. There is fresh water, cots, and food for those who need to seek shelter. The address is…"

" _Maybe we should go there," Haruki suggested._

 _She wanted it to be true. But she knew to stay clear of people until a cure came first. Her dad wanted her away from the city and she vowed to listen to one of his final instructions to her._

" _You guys can go," Sherry countered stubbornly, "My car and myself will not be going anywhere near that place."_

 _There was silence again however it was soon filled by Haruki complaining in Japanese. She could tell Haruki was unhappy with her decisions but refused to care. The radio signal suddenly went dead as the gathering crowd murmured simultaneously. As everyone stepped away one man walked onto the scene and looked around as if wanting to engage someone in conversation. The man then saw Sherry sitting in her car with the window down and approached her._

" _I apologize for bothering you, miss," he began with a kind smile, "Do you happen to have water with you? There is a guy a couple cars south that's burning up real fast. He doesn't look too good."_

 _Sherry inspected him before responding. The older man looked like he belonged to a biker gang except his clothes were either freshly pressed and the leather appeared to be brand new. There was no Southern accent detected so she deduced that he wasn't a local like herself._

 _Letting his question sink in, Sherry glanced around her car but only saw an empty water bottle that she had finished off soon after they stopped in traffic. "I'm sorry, I don't," she replied, "I can help you find some though."_

" _You are leaving?" Haruki asked as Sherry opened the door._

" _I'll be back," Sherry assured out of obligation but was relieved to have a break from his constant complaining._

" _Much obliged," he responded, "My name is Dean, by the way."_

" _Sherry," she introduced herself in return. They shook hands then immediately went car to car in search for water. It only took several tries to get a good Samaritan to hear their plight as Dean then guided her to the man who was in desperate need of it._

" _Do you think he's… infected?" Sherry pondered out loud while still trying to make sense of whatever befell the entire world._

" _Oh yeah," Dean said with surety, "The guy is trying to hide something on his shoulder. I think he got bit by one of those things."_

 _Sherry shook her head with disbelief. Every story from the random people that she stumbled upon to her father telling her about the their neighbors lined up with one truth. It unnerved her. "What the hell is going on?"_

" _I have no idea," Dean stated, "I have never seen anything like this. The most unusual thing about all of this? People are coming back to life."_

 _Sherry froze while scrunching her forehead up in confusion. "I don't understand."_

" _Neither do I," Dean disclosed, "It's like something out of the Exorcist. Almost like they are possessed. Gnawing and growling; it's awful." He paused while almost not believing his own words or recent memories. "I tried to help someone earlier today. I asked her where she lived thinking maybe I could take her safely home. No answer. All she did was chase me down the street. I thought I was going to die."_

 _They began to walk again but Sherry took cautious steps towards the man who was infected._

" _Are you saying that you get infected by being bit?" She asked while scanning every individual within close proximity to them. The vulnerability made her feel stuck in the midst of insurmountable chaos._

" _It's my only theory," Dean answered, "I'm not a scientist or doctor though." He then held the water bottle up as if trying to remain optimistic. "Should we bring this water to him?"_

" _It'll make him comfortable," Sherry noted with less enthusiasm. If the man was sick, she didn't want to be anywhere near him._

 _When they reached the man, they instead gave the water bottle to a family member to avoid direct contact. His family member uttered her gratitude and quickly aided the dying man. Dean and Sherry walked away as he pointed to where her vehicle was. "Where are you guys headed?" Dean inquired._

" _I really don't know," Sherry revealed and let out an uneven sigh, "Our plan was the airport so I could drop off the two guys in my car. Not an option. I was supposed to camp out with my friends and just wait until things calmed down."_

" _You should stick with the camp idea," Dean encouraged, "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to tag along. My group is gone; the whole lot of them. Good friends too. And my bike got stolen as I was trying to help someone else. With all of this craziness, I'm sure there are others that want a sense of community while we wait for the storm to pass. Don't you think?"_

 _Sherry looked to one family camping outside of their car while she considered Dean's plan. There were two young children as their individual mothers talked to each other. One mom had a very short cut and appeared disoriented yet remarkably calm in comparison to the others around her. She looked like she had worn that face even before the current catastrophe occurred. It didn't take long to realize what caused her demeanor after her husband barked at her incoherently for one reason or another. Sherry had half a mind to go over and yell at him on the woman's behalf. But then Sherry and the little girl then made eye contact. She could see from the girl's reaction that the interaction between her parents was the norm while the other family looked on in equal shock._

 _Sherry liked the idea of grouping with others but she could almost hear her dad say in her ear to not trust anyone. She wanted to trust Dean, Haruki, and Takuya. However, she didn't want to be trapped in a situation that could kill her either._

 _Dean was still waiting for a response as she sighed in defeat. Regardless of what her dad would have warned, she was on her own and didn't have the support system of her large family in Chicago. Anything was better than being alone._

" _It's an idea," she finally agreed, "I'll take anything over no-," Sherry paused at the sound of screams followed by more shrieks and cries. Someone ran their direction and nearly pummeled into Dean head on._

" _What in the hell?" Dean muttered while trying to look over the masses of people ahead of them._

 _More people started running towards Dean and Sherry. Sherry took the liberty of climbing onto a nearby car to see what the commotion was all about. People bolted past them as others that were much slower crept up towards them and surrounded the people still inside their vehicles. They were clawing and snarling at many innocent bystanders. Some were bitten viciously as swarms of infected tore them apart. Sherry couldn't believe her eyes._

 _Sherry jumped off the vehicle then looked to Dean. "We need to get out of here now!" She yelled as they ran towards her car. When they got there, she banged on the windows desperately._

" _GET OUT!" She screamed at the two men in the backseat of her car._

 _The startled men immediately got out of the car with their things in tow as Sherry grabbed for her backpack on the front seat. She then reached for her handgun in the glove compartment but stopped when she heard a snarl behind her. Thinking it was the end, she turned around just in time to see Dean shoot at the creature. It was too voracious to be described human. She watched as it fell to the ground with blood splattering all over her car._

 _Dean looked to Sherry then to his gun. "I got your back, miss," Dean said then acknowledged Haruki and Takuya while Sherry crawled out of her vehicle as quickly as she could, "Let's go!"_

 _Sherry and Dean started running as Haruki and Takuya followed close behind. They had no destination in mind except for staying far away from the beings that had reanimated and from people in general._

" _Where are we going?" Haruki asked as Sherry started walking off the highway and into the woods next to it._

" _Away!" She answered back as she hoped it was the right place to go. Their experience on the highway made her terrified of too many people in one place. It offered nothing but confusion. She only wanted to focus on surviving with the limited amount of group members that she happened to befriend merely hours before. She knew their survival was up to each of them and hoped that they would last for the long haul._

…

Sherry woke up from the sunlight that peeked through the closed blinds. She was sweating as she tried to kick the blankets off of her while half-asleep. Immediately remembering where she was, she jolted out of bed but was yanked back down. Falling on her rear beside the mattress, her eyes trailed down her arm to see the handcuff that was still locked to the metal bed frame. She placed her forehead on the mattress and groaned. _Sanctuary wasn't just a very bad dream,_ she thought with dread.

"Good morning," someone said in the room.

With a sharp inhale, Sherry scanned the room trying to find the source of the voice. It didn't take long as she saw Yolanda sitting on the rocking chair in the corner. Her friend tried to smile but stared at the handcuffs with concern.

"You're okay?" Sherry questioned while voicing her own apprehension out loud.

Yolanda said nothing and walked over to Sherry. The tension in the room was present as neither wanted to say what they really thought or express the fear that had occurred in the past few days. Fiddling with the keys, Yolanda finally unlocked the handcuffs as Sherry got up and felt the back of her head with a grimace.

"Don't overexert yourself," Yolanda instructed softly.

"Is everyone else…" Sherry began.

"They are all fine," Yolanda interrupted and smiled in comfort, "We wondered how you were doing."

Sherry didn't know how to respond to her inquiry and changed the subject. "How did you get in here?"

"Negan sent for me specifically," Yolanda explained, "I have been assigned to be your companion."

"My _chaperon_ ," Sherry corrected then looked to her apologetically, "I'm sorry."

"There are worse jobs to have," Yolanda replied and then touched Sherry's cheek. The anguish in Yolanda's eyes was evident as it looked like she was unsure of forming her thoughts into words. "Did Negan...try anything last night?"

"No," Sherry responded, "He didn't even sleep in the same bed."

With a sigh of relief, Yolanda wiped at a tear forming and glanced around the room. "Several of us wanted you to be aware that we don't want you in his house. You don't have to bend over backwards to try and keep us alive. We don't need his protection."

"Thank you," Sherry said, "We're on the same page." She walked towards the window behind the rocking chair then opened the blinds. Compared to her view from the courthouse, she had a much better vantage point of Sanctuary from Negan's house. Even looking out, she could see Negan's men, the Saviors, everywhere. Perched on rooftops, walking on the street, standing in various windows and doorways, they were present.

"That's just great," Sherry muttered.

"Any plans in that head of yours?" Yolanda questioned then stood beside her.

"Not yet," Sherry responded dismally, "The rest of the group? Did they think of anything?"

"Dwight only said that he would try and think of something once his first day was through," Yolanda informed, "He's going to scope out the area and check for any weaknesses."

Sherry smiled lightly as she thought of her confidence in Dwight. She wouldn't expect anything less from him.

"What did Negan want from Dwight yesterday?" Yolanda asked, "Did he tell you?"

"Negan sent Dwight to tell me about my position in the scheme of things," Sherry responded, "That's all I know."

"That must have been difficult for both of you," Yolanda commented as she put a comforting hand on Sherry's shoulder. Sherry looked to her in question as Yolanda rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Sherry. That boy is in love with you. He doesn't want you anywhere near that awful man."

The bitterness took over as Sherry looked to the floor with solemnity. "Before we were taken," she started, "Dwight wanted to…" Sherry stopped when thinking of how innocent his request was. Dwight only wanted someone to be with him throughout the hard times and the good. The idea seemed illogical in the moment yet inviting. But when Negan showed up, the notion fell into obscurity. As well as her hopes of ever finding peace of mind.

"Ever since you were hit that night, Dwight has become a different man," Yolanda explained, "He's been very distant. If it were anyone else in the group that would have been put in your position, he wouldn't be taking it this hard."

Glancing out the window once more, Sherry wondered if she could see Dwight amble throughout Sanctuary's streets.

"He's downstairs," Yolanda whispered. Sherry turned around with wide eyes as Yolanda gave her a knowing look filled with warning.

Sherry immediately bolted into the hallway and down the stairs. It didn't take long for her to find him as Dwight stood on the front porch keeping a watchful eye on the road in front of Negan's house. He turned around at the sound of footsteps and gave Sherry a gratified smile.

"Sherry?" He breathed with a sigh of relief then stepped inside as he looked over his shoulder.

Sherry was astounded by the way she felt when she saw him. She had always been fond of him and grew to see him as a trusted friend. But seeing him again after what they had been through for the past several days ignited a stronger impression. Once she reached the bottom stair, she crashed into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. The gesture wasn't immediately reciprocated but several seconds later, he gradually placed his hands near her lower back and softly laid his cheek on top of her head.

"I can't be here long," Dwight divulged while reluctantly breaking apart from her, "Negan doesn't want me here when you're awake."

"Why?" Sherry asked in an upset tone.

"I'll have to tell you later," Dwight said quickly, "I can't be seen here. It's not safe for either of us. I just had to see that you were okay."

"I'm glad you did," Sherry spoke softly at the same time Dwight's hand encircled around hers. In between their hands, she felt a folded piece of paper touch her fingers. Letting go of her hand, he gave her a knowing look then hastily stepped out of the house without another word.

Yolanda stood at the top of the stairs and looked to Sherry in question. "What is it?"

Sherry stared down at the piece of paper in her hand and could feel the fleeting warmth that had once been Dwight's touch. She turned on her heel towards the stairs and practically ran up to the bedroom as Yolanda quickly followed. When they made it to the room, Yolanda shut the door behind them while Sherry began unfolding the note.

 _Sher,_

 _In the mornings, I'll give you an update like this letter. I hope you update me as well. This is how we know when to strike at Negan._

 _On my side, I will try and scope out all of Sanctuary and look for vantage points. I don't want to stay here long. For your sake._

 _Sherry, I know it's bold of me to say but I just wanted to let you know that I think of you almost every minute of the day. You are what drives me to do the things I do nowadays. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. And if he ever lays a hand on you in an unfavorable way, please let me know as soon as possible._

 _Sincerely yours, Dwight_

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE – And I leave with that. Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought in the reviews!**


	3. Act 1: Chapter 3

**Act I**

 **Chapter 3**

 _Present Day_

 _October 12, 2010_

 _Sanctuary_

"Aren't you going to eat?" Yolanda inquired.

Jolting from her surveillance of Sanctuary, Sherry turned her attention to Yolanda who stared at her with concern. "Sorry?"

Yolanda eyed the guards standing nearby then back towards Sherry with growing unease. "I said, aren't you going to eat?"

Sherry tensed at her friend's apprehension and glanced at the guards as well. Negan never explicitly stated that she was under house arrest. However, the guards at the fence and on the porch suggested that she was going to be under constant watch.

Their first meal in Sanctuary consisted of eggs and homemade bread. Sherry couldn't remember the last time she had bread. Despite wanting to satiate her hunger, she sat on Negan's wrap-around porch with reluctance. In a few days' time, Negan killed a friend, threatened her surviving group mercilessly, and forced them to live amongst his people against their better judgment. The food could have been considered an olive branch for future goodwill. Sherry only saw it as bribery.

"Should I trust it?" Sherry questioned out loud. The guards stirred in their place but said nothing.

"He already got what he wanted," Yolanda replied solemnly, "I need you to stay strong and healthy. You aren't going to starve yourself while you're here."

With reluctance, Sherry leaned forward and took a small bite of the sliced wheat bread while staring around the small town that the Saviors occupied.

"Excuse me, ma'am," one of the guards leaned down to get Yolanda's attention, "Negan wanted you to know that this is the _only_ time that food would be prepared and that you're on your own from this point on." The Savior's tone was apologetic.

"We don't expect to be catered to," Sherry responded with pride.

"Um," The Savior interrupted, "She expects _her,"_ he pointed to Yolanda, "to cater to _you."_

Sherry and Yolanda exchanged a look as Yolanda's face reddened from embarrassment.

"This is bullshit," Sherry protested.

Yolanda reached into her back pocket and produced a folded up piece of paper. "These are my duties throughout the week," she explained and handed the paper to Sherry, "If I get these done then my rations aren't divided in half."

Sherry read over the detailed list. It mostly consisted of cleaning Negan's house, doing his and Sherry's laundry, and refilling his home with common amenities from the supply building. She scoffed at the list and handed it back to Yolanda.

"I can do my own laundry," Sherry grumbled on behalf of Yolanda. It thoroughly disgusted her that Yolanda's tasks consisted of simple housekeeping. Sherry had survived with Yolanda for six long months. She had seen how capable and strong of an asset she was. "What does he expect? Jenna is going to care for herself while you're busy taking care of me?"

"She's at the library right now participating in school," Yolanda reasoned, "I'll make it work. Dean will pick her up and take her home while I'm still here."

"I don't like that," Sherry stated firmly, "We can go pick her up together…"

"Miss," the Savior interrupted again, "Negan doesn't want you around your group. He gave us specific orders that you stay around his house for the first week."

"Miguel," the other Savior reprimanded, "You don't need to explain shit to her."

The man named Miguel appeared slightly miffed at the admonition but said nothing in rebuttal. Instead, he no longer gave Sherry or Yolanda attention and went back to his businesslike watch.

After their breakfast was finished, Sherry helped Yolanda with her work even if Negan didn't require it. To pass the time, they decided to clean the pigsty that was the kitchen and both concluded that it would take them all day to make it look spic and span.

"This is a step back," Yolanda grumbled after a few hours of scrubbing pots and pans.

Sherry tried to clear a large stain on the kitchen counter which was once a moss inhabitant. "I guess _someone_ thinks us incapable of doing anything else," Sherry muttered while Yolanda smiled ever-so-slightly.

"It's odd, isn't it?" Yolanda commented, "Being in a house after camping outside for so long. Almost like being at the mansion again."

Sherry was transported at the thought of the abandoned mansion. It was one of the several holding places in the six months that they were on the road. The large enclosure was the perfect set up and they even found joy while staying there. Unfortunately, it was not susceptible to walkers – much like the rest of the world – and became overrun. "Almost," she replied with melancholy. Sanctuary was _nothing_ like their lost slice of heaven.

Yolanda glanced at her list of chores then peered at Sherry. "It says that you need to take a shower before ten o'clock," she announced while gesturing towards the clock above the small kitchen table in the corner. "It's a quarter after nine now."

Knowing she was in need of bathing, Sherry stared at Yolanda with astonishment. She was aware that Sanctuary had running water but was still baffled at the idea of such a luxury. "A shower?"

Yolanda nodded with a smirk. "Already took one last night," she responded while continuing to scrub the filth away in the pot, "It was _very_ nice! Go and enjoy yourself. I'll be okay here."

…

Sherry carried a kitchen chair upstairs and propped it against the bathroom door. She believed Yolanda would protect her but still felt vulnerable all the same. She turned the faucet on as water began to rain down. Taking her clothes off, she was surprised to quickly see steam pour from above the shower curtain. Not wasting time, she stepped in and washed herself as fast as she could. The sound of the water pressure put her on edge as she could hear very little else.

Turning the water off then quickly wrapping a towel around herself, she dried off and put new clothes on. When she heard a male voice downstairs, Sherry rushed herself even more to make sure that Yolanda was okay. She knew her friend would have told her that they were going to expect company. Running a towel through her hair to help it dry, she then opened the door and flew down the stairs to see what was going on.

Negan was in clear view as he sat on the living room couch. Sherry stopped in her tracks at the bottom of the stairs, her heart racing at the sight of someone who genuinely terrified her. She was an observant person by nature but even she couldn't predict what Negan would do or say at any given time.

She didn't say a word while he observed her with obvious interest and stood up to greet her in a more personal way. Inching backwards, Sherry gazed around the room and saw no sign of Yolanda anywhere.

"Where's Yolie?" She practically interrogated. She still wasn't used to the separation from her group after months of being shoulder to shoulder.

"I told her to take a lunch break and be with her daughter," Negan informed, "You sure clean up nicely."

Sherry noticed his deep dimples every time that he grinned and hated how much she was attracted to that outward attribute. She shut it off and reminded herself that those appeared when he became the most demented.

"Thanks," she replied halfheartedly.

"Care to take a walk with me?" Negan asked while taking her hand in his. It was an intentional hold and while on the outside it looked harmless, it made Sherry feel trapped regardless. "I'm going to teach you how to fire a weapon," he continued, "Just to make sure you have the right training."

"I already know how to use a gun," Sherry quipped, her temper already rising, "My dad taught me years ago."

Negan scoffed at her tone and attempted to kiss her on the temple while she immediately pulled back at the unsolicited affection. "Yeah, we'll see about that," he commented while waving off her indifference. Sherry was annoyed by his cockiness and his assurance that she was clueless in matters of weapons.

They walked out of the front door as some Saviors on the porch followed Negan and Sherry towards the white picket fence. Without even thinking, she began to search for Dwight's face among the people on the streets. Unfortunately, she didn't see any signs of him.

"Where is my group?" She asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"They are out and about," Negan responded, "Not causing a lick of trouble like some other newcomers have. Fucking impressive actually. They'll be great assets to the Saviors cause."

"The Saviors cause?" Sherry questioned, "And what is your cause?"

"World needs order, doesn't it?" Negan challenged, "We aim to take it back from the undead. The Saviors see the importance of that."

"Maybe they're just scared of you," Sherry objected boldly.

Negan nodded while pondering what she said. "Good," he said shortly, "That's how I want it to be."

Sherry didn't say any more. So far, she had seen his worst side; a side that she wished she had never seen. The good side of Negan was a one way street. There was only room to please Negan. Negan didn't care to please his _friends._

They walked down the street towards the downtown area of Sanctuary while approaching what used to be an old police department. Negan guided Sherry to the back entrance where stairs led to the basement. Opening a metal door, Sherry saw it led to a small, dark room. There was some light that protruded from a glass door where Sherry could see a bigger room. Stepping inside, Negan showed her the opposite wall where large noise-cancelling ear muffs hung. Sherry looked into the other room and was surprised to see what it actually was. Negan instructed her to put on some hearing protection before they opened the door to none other than a shooting range in the basement of the police station.

Once the door opened, everyone that was inside of the range stopped firing. When Negan closed the door behind them, the weapons commenced in booming fashion and Sherry felt grateful for the ear muffs.

"This is one of the reasons we decided to stay in this town over any other place," Negan shouted right next to her to be overheard by the constant wave of gunshots, "This police station had a state-of-the-art shooting range, completely sound proof! Very rare for a small town. We lucked out! And this way we can practice without having a herd coming our direction!"

"Aren't you worried about running out of ammo?" Sherry yelled over the sudden blasts from firearms.

Negan chuckled as he found two empty booths at the end of the room. "We have enough fucking ammo to last us for years!" He explained while grabbing an assault rifle that was propped against the wall, "Most of our shit came from army camps all over the D.C. area. Believe me, there was a shit ton of those!

"D.C.?" Sherry questioned, "Like Washington D.C.?" She had no idea that her group had made it up that north from Georgia. Because they stayed away from major highways and large cities, their location had remained an enigma since the mansion.

"Yes, ma'am, the one and only," Negan replied while resting his eyes on her fondly. Stepping closer, he handed her the rifle and gave her a subtle wink. "Let's try this one first, sweetheart. The recoil isn't bad so you won't get a nasty bruise on your shoulder."

"Not the first time I used one," Sherry reminded him while grabbing the gun from Negan. Standing in her own lane, she checked to see if the rifle was loaded and if the safety was off then adjusted the gun's length for her shorter arms. Negan remained close as she could feel his body brush against her backside. Several times he aimed to help her but stopped when she clearly had it handled herself. Lifting her gun, she purposefully nudged Negan away with her elbow while he evidently found her displeasure endearing enough to laugh at it.

When she saw everything was ready, she finally looked up to see what her targets were. On metal shelves, walker heads lined the back wall in the hundreds, if not thousands.

"Right in between the eyes," Negan informed as he set up his own gun in the lane beside her, "Anything else doesn't fucking count."

Aiming her gun, she saw the walkers in her sight. She pushed down on the trigger and her first shot hit a walker square in the eye. She then had her eyes set on the walker head next to the one she had just killed. Pulling the trigger, it hit the dead being on the temple. Quickly moving onto the next one, she shot the walker as blood splattered from the center of rotted forehead.

"Finally!" Negan criticized sarcastically, "You're actually on the scoreboard." She glared at him only to see a teasing smirk when they locked eyes.

Sherry smiled to herself as she felt some confidence overflow. Taking aim, she shot at five more walkers, all of which were in between the eyes per Negan's rules.

"Who did you say taught you how to shoot?" Negan asked her while staring at the opposite wall in awe.

"My dad," Sherry clarified and then shot another walker.

Negan whistled at her ability with a gun then took a sharp intake of breath. "I'm fucking impressed," he relayed and took a shot of his own, "You're giving me a major hard on right now."

It wasn't the first time that Sherry received a sexual comment but it took her aback all the same. She felt like she could puke. "I told you that I was decent with a gun," she said timidly without trying to sound thoroughly disgusted.

"Your dad," Negan began, "Did he hunt?"

"Not really," Sherry replied while pulling the trigger again, "He was… He _is_ a cop."

"Hmm," was all Negan said on the subject. Sherry could hear the underlying disapproval.

After several moments of shooting with saying nothing, Negan then showed her other weapons as she was able to try out all of them. Even she couldn't deny how nice it was to vent her frustrations on the living dead. It didn't change her outcome within Sanctuary, however.

"Hey," Negan started as he nodded towards one of his men while the man handed him Sherry's old Mossberg that she almost had since the beginning of the outbreak. She stood frozen at the sight while instantly thinking of sweet Hannah.

"I wanted to give this one back to you," Negan offered, "When I first saw you with this, I didn't think a little thing like you could handle it. You've proved me wrong today."

Sherry didn't make a move to retrieve it. Instead, she only looked to it with sadness. It was as if it became a symbol of life taken away. "You can keep it," Sherry insisted while refocusing on shooting her pistol.

"What?" Negan asked, "You don't like it?"

"I just don't want it anymore; that's all," Sherry said while feigning disinterest.

Negan shrugged in reply and placed it on the half-wall in front of him. "Fine, I'll take it," he muttered to himself.

Sherry gave a sideways glance at her shotgun. She experienced a lot of moments with that particular weapon and it had been her protector during a lot of rough days and nights.

Negan took one last shot then looked to Sherry. "I'm done for the day. I'll drop you off at the house."

Slightly miffed that he didn't even ask her if she was finished shooting herself, she reluctantly followed him to the door. Outside the shooting range, Negan and Sherry took their ear protection off then walked out of the police department.

…

Negan left her at the house while Yolanda and Jenna were there to greet her. Together, they all looked for a piece of paper and a pen around the Victorian home. Finding Negan's office adjacent the kitchen, Sherry stepped inside to find several notebooks on his desk. Careful to find a page that didn't have any writing on it, she ripped it away without making it seem like anything was missing in the first place. She assumed most of his notes were from what others have written for him as the handwriting varied from page to page or even paragraph to paragraph.

She walked away with several pieces of paper in hand then marched to her bedroom upstairs while Yolanda stood at the doorway with concern clear on her face.

"Your head injury, Sherry," Yolanda reminded, "It was hit pretty badly the night that they dragged us here. After you are done with that letter, please get some rest."

"Yeah, I'll try," Sherry replied with a smile then looked to Jenna who stood quietly behind her adopted mother, "How was your first day of school here in Sanctuary?"

Jenna shrugged. "School is school," she responded dully. Yolanda grinned at her daughter then closed Sherry's door as a way to insist that she rest. To Sherry's knowledge, Negan would be gone until it was dark. She had plenty of time to write a letter without being suspected of anything.

 _Dear Dwight,_

 _It's not bold of you to say that. If I am being honest with myself, I think about you a lot during the day as well._

 _My side is a little difficult. Negan is trying to befriend me so perhaps we can delve into something deeper in the future… which, unfortunately for him, isn't going to happen. He killed Hannah and that's something that I don't have a tolerance for._

 _I look forward to your next letter. It has given me something to look forward to while locked up in his house._

 _Negan has actually been more polite than I thought he would have been. I have my own bed while he goes to sleep in a different room altogether._

 _In regards to… your plan… whatever you do, please be careful. Negan has a lot of men and if he's suspicious of us, I don't see a good way out of that predicament._

 _Sherry Ciccone_

Sherry put down her pen and paper then folded it up in the same fashion that Dwight had done with his previous letter. She put it in her pillowcase for the time-being as she started to eventually feel overcome with fatigue. The wound on her head was healing well but being at the shooting range took most of her energy for the day. With the most important task of the day being finished, she dozed off with an almost smile on her face as she thought of Dwight. In less than a day's time, the letter would be in his hands. _Soon,_ she thought as she started dreaming.

…

 _May 11, 2010  
Five Months Earlier  
Unknown Location_

 _For the first several weeks, it was only Sherry, Dean, Takuya, and Haruki. They camped in the woods among other displaced survivors that scattered the forest just outside Atlanta. The sight of seeing so many that fled the city was remarkable to Sherry. The magnitude of the world's downfall had been presented with multiple tents and RV's that littered where civilization barely touched before._

 _Nights began with survivors twenty feet from each other in their own little camps. She saw many form groups together for strength in numbers. Seeing the benefits that larger groups provided, Sherry still felt uncomfortable around a lot of people; as if they would become infected at the drop of a hat._

 _There was no order. No police or government officials were able to send updates. Radios went cold with white noise left in its place. Electricity was shut off everywhere._

 _Everyone was on their own._

 _Whenever they heard someone scream or gunshots being fired, her small group quickly moved on with only their belongings on their backs. The hordes of crowds that were once a frequent sight soon dwindled to nearly nonexistent. In the first week, their group passed others as they occasionally muttered a brief "hang in there," or a "some life we live, right?"_

 _However, as time went on and hunger settled, many quickly became hostile. It became a unanimous decision to steer clear of most groups; particularly, the groups that consisted of male dominant personalities. Sherry wanted to make an exception of the groups with small children and often forfeited her food rations to them. There had been so much death that they witnessed. Giving supplies to children felt like the only thing she could do to help them survive._

 _They learned quickly that if they were going to persevere, they had to break some laws. Looting was the first rule they decided to renounce as they ransacked every empty car abandoned on the highway. In one of their findings, Sherry located a Mossberg shotgun and decided to keep it upon liking its power and inability to miss a target._

 _Every night, Sherry scrolled through old photos on her phone. Knowing it was more prudent to reserve the battery life, she still looked at the pictures with a sense of longing. There were a lot of memories with her roommates that were long gone. Others were of her latest trip back home to Chicago. She forced herself not to cry in front of her group but when her emotions seemed like they would get the better of her, she shut her phone off and tried to fall asleep._

…

 _Luck seemed to be on their side when their group came across a large and clean lake. The sight was beautiful with multiple green trees surrounding the sandy shores. Small islands speckled the scene in front of them as Sherry took delight in the smell of fresh water._

 _After taking in the utopia that they stumbled upon, Sherry overlooked the lakeside to scan for any people that possibly claimed the area as their own._

" _Looks like we are at the southernmost point of Lake Lanier," Dean commented as he studied his map. He then reached into his backpack and produced a pair of binoculars then handed them to Sherry. "Here. Your eyes are better for it."_

 _Kneeling beside Dean, she clutched the binoculars before looking through them as she searched for anything that looked remotely suspicious. The lake itself appeared to be pristine. She then heard Haruki all but throw himself into the water from relief and the immediate desire to cool off from the almost-summer heat. Dean and Takuya laughed at Haruki's eagerness while Sherry kept searching for signs of the undead or worse. She then scanned a small lakeside resort that wasn't too far away from where they stood._

 _The place seemed abandoned and had individual little cabins-for-two nestled into the woods. Sherry saw no signs of cars in the parking lot or fires to prepare food. She handed Dean the binoculars then looked to him with hope._

" _This might be the best stroke of luck that we've had this whole time," Sherry commented with a rare smile. It had probably been her first ever smile since the whole ordeal began._

" _Do you think others are there?" Haruki inquired at the water side in between gulps._

" _I guess we'll find out," Sherry entertained, "But if there happens to be people, we could merge our group with theirs."_

 _Dean stared at her with surprise. She was the one who first rejected the idea of making their group larger._

 _Shrugging her shoulders, Sherry continued her thought. "Why not, right? Strength in numbers isn't such a bad thing anymore." Throughout the grueling two weeks, she started to become less nervous about the living and more outnumbered with the dead. As much as she didn't want to join up with others that she didn't know, she felt her group didn't have any other choice if they wanted to survive for the long haul._

 _With the thought of survival on her mind, she searched through her bag and found what she was looking for then glanced at Haruki expectedly. Since their first car ride, Haruki's complaining was kept to a minimum but every so often, he would still say a couple of things that irked Sherry. Takuya, however, seemed to adjust to their new life well enough so he was never on her bad side. Haruki on the other hand…_

" _Hey, Haruki!" Sherry shouted towards him. Getting his attention, she held up a pistol for him to take and raised an eyebrow. "Still don't believe in guns?"_

 _Haruki stopped drinking the water and looked at Sherry's gun with dread but said nothing._

 _Sherry rolled her eyes, still waiting for him to grab the gun from her. "Look, Haruki," she started, "You need to learn how to use one of these to protect yourself. We won't always be there for you and have your back, you know."_

" _But…" Haruki started to protest._

" _Nope," Sherry refused as she closed the distance between them and practically shoved the gun in Haruki's hands. When he held it, he immediately appeared defeated and ashamed of himself. Feeling a shred of sympathy, Sherry let out an exasperated sigh. "Haruki," she began, "When I say that I won't always be there for you, it doesn't mean that I don't_ want _to be. I really want to say that I will always have your back. But I can't. That's why I want you to learn how to use this. You need to prepare for a day that Dean, Takuya, and I will be dead and can no longer protect you. Are you ready for that?"_

 _Haruki slowly shook his head but glanced up to Sherry with understanding. Putting a tighter grip on the pistol, he placed it inside his pocket as Dean grimaced at the obvious lack of care. With one final sigh, Haruki turned around and led the way towards the cabins. Takuya followed but gave Dean and Sherry a victorious smile coupled with a thumbs up then was on his way._

" _Is it loaded?" Dean immediately asked as more distance came between them and Haruki._

" _Absolutely not," Sherry replied, "Judging by how he just stuffed it in his pocket? He's nowhere near ready for ammunition."_

 _Dean snickered while they walked on top of the shimmering sand. "That was some tough love that you gave him," he praised, "He needed to hear it."_

" _Can't hold his hand forever," Sherry added as a matter-of-factly._

" _Your parents must've taught you to be self-reliant; good trait," Dean guessed lightheartedly but Sherry instantly felt a stab of pain at the mention of her family. She didn't respond._

 _Whenever her group asked about her personal life, a lump immediately formed in her throat. She loved her parents and she knew without a doubt that they were worried sick about her. Despite how the distance made her physically ache, she decided to remain focused on survival and to stay strong for her group. Talking about her previous life seemed like it would only serve as a way to break her rather than make her stronger._

 _When they reached the cabins, they each checked every area of the perimeter for danger. There was a larger main cabin with keys, cleaning supplies, and hygiene products that guests would need at a tucked-away resort. Every little cabin had one queen size mattress and a full bathroom. Sherry and Dean took their own separate cabins as Takuya and Haruki shared one despite Takuya's protests of wanting his own space. For once, their group had experienced a sense of peace along the waters of Lake Lanier. After setting up minor security measures, they were able to relax and process the extent of what they had been through in the last two weeks._

 _Dean found fishing supplies in the large cabin and decided to drop a line at the nearby dock. Sherry helped by keeping him company as he taught her his tricks from his earlier angler days. Sherry was able to handle a gun thanks to her days of going with her dad to the shooting range. Vincent wasn't the kind of man that hunted game or even fished. So Sherry was happy to learn from someone who knew what they were doing._

 _It didn't take long, however, for Dean to disclose his personal life. It wasn't uncommon for many in her little group to confide about their losses. Regardless, it still made Sherry uncomfortable. She never spoke about her family to them. She never wanted to._

 _Dean spoke of his wife that lived in Northern California. "The heart of wine country," he recalled fondly. When the outbreak began, he was on a cross country motorcycle trip. As a way to commemorate his sixth-fifth birthday and subsequent retirement, his friends traveled with him to mark the special occasion but to also help fulfill a bucket list dream. His friends all perished at different times but he stayed alive. He told Sherry that he had plans on making the trip to see if his wife and family were safe but all the flights became grounded._

" _So what's stopping you right now?" Sherry asked him while she sat on a lawn chair opposite him on the dock, "Why don't you just walk until you find a car, then use that car until you find another car, and so on?"_

 _Dean gazed down at his fishing pole in deep thought as his mouth formed a tight line. "Because, Sherry, I'm afraid of the outcome when I reach the end of that journey," he uttered with regret, "What if she's dead? What if she's already heading my direction and I miss her altogether? What if I make it and it's too late for me to help her?" He stopped as his expression continued to fall because of his own grief. "I'm a coward, Sherry. I'm too scared of the 'what-if's' to even go looking for my wife of whom I have been married to for over four decades. What a gutless thing to do. And now she's all alone."_

 _Sherry thought about what to say but didn't have the right words to console him. She continued to fish alongside him until she_ could _think of words sufficient enough._

" _Dean, I'm all by myself," Sherry started solemnly, "And I don't blame my family for not looking for me. That unknown is terrifying. You are probably not on your way to California for the same reason that I am not heading towards Michigan. This outbreak has killed a lot of people and fast. Odds are that my family is dead. They probably didn't even make it past the Illinois border… It's not gutless to think that way, Dean. You're just being a realist. To be an optimist is dangerous nowadays."_

 _Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dean wipe at his cheeks as he said nothing. Moments of silence passed until he finally thanked her for being the voice of reason. She nodded in return then reeled her fishing pole back in. She got up after setting the pole down on the dock and patted Dean on the shoulder so as to leave him alone with his thoughts. But more so, she needed time to iron out her own restless mind._

 _She slowly strolled away from the cabins with her Mossberg strapped behind her back. Staying close to the water's edge, she decided to use the lake as an escape route if walkers began to creep up from out of nowhere._

 _It was truly the first time that they all had to cogitate since civilization deteriorated. As much as Sherry was happy for some much-needed rest, she disliked stopping to process the emotional struggle that her current everyday life offered. Speaking to Dean about the probabilities only made her feel worse as the reality began to sink in for the first time. Vocalizing her fears to someone else made it more substantial._

 _When she found the right place of seclusion, Sherry sat on some large rocks and began to throw tiny pebbles into the lake. Growing mesmerized by the ripple effects, it still wasn't enough to get her mind off her absent family. It was physically painful when she thought of never seeing them again. The happy memories from a life before grew into dismal moments that she would prefer to bury as if they never happened._

 _A sob arose from her throat followed by instant tears that she quickly tried to wipe away as if the burst of emotion did not transpire. However, the control was lost and she began to cry openly for all that she had lost in such a short amount of time. She took deep breaths and wished that the pain would go away so as not to live with it._

 _Her parents, Vincent and Annie, were the best kind of people. They volunteered at church events. They were in charge of several food drives throughout the holiday season. Extended family members in the Chicago area were taken care of. Cousins that didn't have enough money to travel with their sports teams to nationals were paid for by her father. Everyone in their neighborhood admired them and they always made sure Sherry felt loved. They were beacons and examples whom Sherry sought guidance from nearly every day. The first two weeks were rough and the inability to see her parents was a large portion of that difficulty._

 _Just when she was about to collect herself from the moment of self-pity, the sound of footsteps could be heard in the near distance. She froze at the sound of leaves being jostled and reached for her gun which rested at her feet. She concentrated on the pattern of steps as they sounded even – unlike a walker's arbitrary shuffling._

 _Either the person had not seen her or they didn't call out attention to them on purpose. Sherry didn't know who the person was but she needed to show intimidation so her intruder would know not to take her lightly. Breathing softly, she took a quick moment to recollect herself before taking action._

 _In a swift motion, she picked up her Mossberg and turned around to immediately take aim. Now able to see what was behind her, she saw the footsteps belonged to a man. He quickly noticed her immediate response to which he stopped dead in his tracks as she slowly stood up for a more threatening appearance. She watched as he leaned down slowly to put his crossbow on the ground then stood straight up with his hands in the air._

" _Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He whispered like someone would when approaching a wild horse. She stared at him, unwilling to change her stance to anything but cautionary. "I'm just passing through. I don't want any trouble. Can you put your gun down?"_

" _Where are you headed?" Sherry inquired as she observed everything that she could about him. He wore jeans that had blood spattered in various places. His blue t-shirt looked no worse for wear as it seemed tattered and frayed. A beard started to form on his face from the lack of shaving with weeks on the road. Wearing his hair short, she could still see the subtle curl and wave in an unkempt manner. He was also very tall. His eyes appeared dark, but it was hard to tell from the distance._

 _From a first glance, he appeared kind. His countenance was approachable and not too dangerous looking. She was a good judge of character and could tell that he stood by his word and wasn't looking for trouble._

 _He looked to her with a mournful gaze. "I don't really have a destination in mind," he answered honestly, "I was with some friends of mine… and none of them made it. I was kind of hoping that I would just stumble on another group. Maybe a safe zone if there is one."_

 _Sherry kept her gun aimed at him but saw the sincerity behind his words. He appeared exhausted and like he had just endured hell. Taking pity on him, she finally relented and dropped her gun then strapped it to her back. "I have a group over at that resort over there," she disclosed then pointed across the lake, "Would you like to be with us for a bit?"_

 _He smiled gratefully then reached for his crossbow at his feet. "I would appreciate that," he exulted as he slowly strode towards her, "Thanks, miss…" He paused while waiting to hear what her name was._

 _With a hand outstretched, Sherry gave a small grin in greeting. "My name is Sherry."_

" _It's nice to meet you, Sherry," the man said with his own smirk, "I'm Dwight."_

 _Dwight's countenance was warm and inviting. His wide smile showed perfect teeth and was infectious to Sherry who immediately felt her spirits being lifted. Shaking her hand firmly but with respect all the same, he then twitched an eyebrow as his face showed concern. Feeling exposed, she then remembered that he must have seen her crying earlier. "Are you okay?" He asked with sincerity._

" _I'll be fine," Sherry replied somewhat confidently as she guided him towards their camp._

 _During their walk, Sherry would steal sideways glances at the newcomer. From what she noticed, he looked to be closer to her age or was slightly older. He was taller than she was by at least a whole foot. He had a confident stride to his step even though his eyes appeared like he had more than his fair share of newfound grief. She supposed everyone wore that look which was a mixture of shock and sadness._

 _Every so often, she would see that he was already looking at her. They would exchange awkward eye contact as she would break the gaze while her face flared red. She felt embarrassed for being caught in the act of staring although she didn't know why she felt abashed for it. She was entitled to observe someone._

" _So how long have you guys been here?" Dwight asked her while trying to stir up conversation._

" _We just found this place a few hours ago, actually," Sherry informed him while seeing the sky turn different hues with the sunset, "All the cabins have their own mattresses and bathrooms. It's going to be nice to sleep on one for once."_

" _Amen to that," Dwight commented, "Since this whole thing started, it's been the forest floor for me."_

 _Sherry admitted to herself that she liked the sound of his voice. It was gentle but demanded her attention when he spoke. Not in a pervasive way but she was genuinely interested in what he had to say._

 _They reached the camp as Haruki and Takuya were collecting firewood to cook the fish that Dean caught. Almost in unison, they all looked up to Sherry approaching with a new person. They were surprised but not alarmed as they saw Sherry's casualness to his presence._

" _This is Dwight," Sherry introduced simply, "I found him while I was scouting the area and he'll be with us from here on out." She pointed to all the members. "This is Haruki, Takuya, and Dean." They all gave him some small waves or nods as Dean smiled widely towards Dwight._

" _Good thing that I caught a lot of fish," Dean exclaimed and went to shake Dwight's hand, "You hungry, son?"_

" _I haven't had anything filling for days," Dwight replied and accepted Dean's firm handshake. After, he found a wooden lounge chair next to the fire that Takuya was successfully building as the flames began to grow._

" _Don't eat too much," Sherry instructed while leaning against a tree, "Your appetite is a lot bigger than your stomach right now. So you might get full sooner than you think."_

" _Noted," Dwight replied with a smirk in her direction. She couldn't help but notice the flirtation in his tone as she tried to wave it off as nothing out of the ordinary._

 _They cooked and ate fish while everyone exchanged stories of their lives before; everyone except Sherry who only listened and smiled at the other group members as they retold their upbringings or the things that they missed the most._

 _Like clockwork, Sherry would see Dwight's attention fall back to her from her peripherals. He would stare for a few seconds then look to whoever was speaking around the fire. Sherry refused to lock eyes with him. He was not being subtle about his attraction towards her. She assumed that if she was the first woman that Dwight had seen in weeks that she was probably looking similar to Angelina Jolie. She grinned to herself at the comical and distant comparison._

 _She hoped they would find others meandering in the woods with nowhere to go and that they could grow to be their own group to defend each other. Looking at the people that surrounded their bonfire, she knew that it could be the start of something good in their world._

…

Sherry woke up to someone touching her face. Confused by the sensation in her half-asleep daze, she opened her eyes to see Negan caressing her cheek! Immediately wide awake, she backed up to the other side of the bed while giving Negan a look of annoyance that he was invading her personal space.

"Jesus," Sherry muttered sharply.

"Hi," he said simply with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

"How long was I asleep for?" She asked while eyeing the window to see it was pitch black outside.

"About six hours," Negan replied, "That's common though. With that gash on the back of your head, you need to sleep often." He sat on the side of the bed casually and continued to stare at Sherry as if expecting her to sit beside him so he could continue to touch her. Mortified at the thought, she stayed still and hoped that he would drop it.

"Dinner is ready to eat downstairs when you're ready," Negan offered. With that, he stood up and left the room, his cocky attitude still present.

It made Sherry alarmed that she didn't even hear him enter the house, let alone her room. She thought that she was a much lighter sleeper than that but now knew to sleep with one eye open from then on. Walking through the hallway upstairs, she heard the front door open then slam shut followed by shouts at the front of Negan's house. Wondering what the commotion was, Sherry hurried her steps on the stairs then looked outside the long, narrow window in the large entryway. She could see Negan fighting an older man in the middle of the street. The man appeared to not be blowing any punches as he just let Negan lash out his fury.

"Oh, shit," Sherry stammered with obvious concern for the older man. She quickly opened the door and rushed to the fence as a crowd gathered around at the sudden entertainment. Negan was on top of the man while bashing his face over and over. The man looked to be nearly passed out and didn't attempt to fight back.

No one even tried to stop Negan. The man had to have been ten years younger than Sherry's fragile grandmother which made her all the more frightened for him. If no one intervened, Negan would _kill_ the man!

"Negan!" Sherry shouted in protest. Negan landed a couple more blows after she called out his name. Either he had selective hearing or chose not to adhere. The man beneath him was a bloody pulp and had already lost consciousness.

"NEGAN!" Sherry yelled again. She didn't dare touch him in order to stop him. He was drenched in the man's blood as it splayed on his shirt, hands, and on the street beneath them. These were the same hands that were used to caress her cheek only minutes ago.

The man below went limp as he dozed off into a pain-induced slumber. Satisfied, Negan looked around at the people surrounding his little outburst as if acknowledging their presence for the first time. "Get back to whatever the fuck you were doing," he ordered then motioned to the man lying in the middle of the street, "Leave him the fuck be."

Standing up, Negan passed by Sherry without another word and headed inside the house. Sherry stared at him in shock while making no effort to join him. Some people behind her chanted Negan's name and applauded. Turning around, Sherry could see the fear in some eyes. Some stared at her as she began to fear for herself.

Unsure of what to do, she slowly started towards the porch to join Negan and hoped that he would be in a better disposition. Stepping inside, she quietly closed the door while immediately hearing noise in the upstairs bathroom. Taking careful steps up the stairs, she pondered how – or if – she should approach him. Making it to the top, she could see him standing in front of the bathroom mirror as his shirt laid in a bloodied heap on the floor. Usually, she would have admired a man that was as nicely toned as he was. Instead, she could only think of how one hit from him would knock her lights out. If they ever fought each other, he would win.

Negan washed his hands as he made a grimace but then looked up to her with an apologetic smile. "Did you see all of that shit?" He asked hesitantly, almost seemingly too embarrassed to ask.

Sherry could see his knuckles bleeding profusely and furrowed her brow. "You need to bandage those up, Negan," she advised with trepidation. Her voice shook as she tried to get ahold of herself, "They look really bad."

He glanced down at his hands and snickered softly. "Yeah," he agreed then looked up to her with pleading eyes, "Can you help me, Sherry? I've tried to bandage knuckles all by myself before. It's too fucking difficult."

"Yeah," she said in a higher breathless octave than her regular voice. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to figure out what to say next. She didn't know how much she was shaking until she reached for the first aid kit that Negan had already opened next to the sink.

Calmly, he reached for her cheek as she forced herself not to appear terrified at the touch. She looked up to him in question while he stared back at her with such intensity that she wanted to be as far away from him as she could. Fearing he would lash out if she did anything that he disapproved of, she continued to hold his gaze.

"Sherry, he had it coming," Negan uttered quietly while letting his fingers trail down to her neck, "I was only giving him what he asked for, okay?" She waited in agony for the interaction to be over with but he brought her into an awkward hug instead. Sherry only stood in place and didn't reciprocate his affection.

"What did he do?" Sherry inquired quietly.

"He beat me at a ping pong game last night," he explained quickly then shouldered past her while heading downstairs with the first aid kit in hand.

Sherry wanted to cry. Negan was obviously an unhinged individual but the thought of him finding out that her groups had plans to eventually escape made her stomach churn. He would gladly beat an old man up over a lost ping pong game. Escaping Sanctuary only meant a harsher and crueler punishment.

When she walked to the main floor and into the kitchen, she saw that Negan was already at the small table with a bowl of warm soup beside him. "Grab yourself a bowl," he invited as he took a bite.

"What an appetizing activity while eating," Sherry grimaced sarcastically.

Negan chuckled. "Yeah, I was just hungry," he commented, "You can wait to eat after if you don't want to multitask."

"Sounds like the better option," Sherry said as she found towels in a kitchen drawer then soaked them in hot water from the sink. "So how _do_ you guys have running water?"

"Got some men in charge of maintaining a nearby reservoir," Negan answered and took another spoonful of soup, "That is their job to keep the electricity going and that we always have water."

"It's nice," Sherry stated honestly as she headed over to him with the towels and also a large bowl of hot water. She took his left hand and rested it on the table in front of her then took the moist towel and held it over his hand.

"Ready?" She thought to ask.

"Sherry, I've fucked up my knuckles before," Negan assured her confidently, "Just fucking go for it."

"Fine," Sherry mumbled and placed the towel right on top of his wounds. She started to rub off the blood around his cuts as he cursed under his breath. She kneaded her fingers into places where the blood was being stubborn and didn't care to be gentle about it.

"Bitch, that fucking hurts," Negan complained as he slammed his other palm down on the table. Despite the outburst, Sherry could tell he was trying hard to keep his patience at a good level while Sherry decided to be gentler to avoid Negan slapping her across the face. She started massaging his hand a bit and instantly felt his muscles relax.

"Now that almost feels nice," he commented with a growing smile.

"Good," Sherry replied while concentrating on her task.

She began to bandage his knuckles as an almost serene silence filled the air. Negan just watched her face which remained focused on her work. Breaking the stillness of the moment, Negan leaned forward slightly with a playful grin. "You going to tell me when you're ready to fuck around?"

Glaring up to him with irritation, she flashed him a warning glance as her eyes turned into slits.

Negan put his right hand up in defense. "Okay, not tonight," he teased, "I get it." Still maintaining his closeness before, he persisted in his thought process as Sherry fought hard not to roll her eyes. "You will tell me when you're ready though, right?"

Sherry shrugged and gazed into his eyes to make sure that she was understood. "It could be awhile until that day comes," she responded with partial disclosure, leaving out that the moment could possibly never arrive.

With a sigh, Negan took another bite of soup. "I'll take whatever I can fucking get," he replied with a small chuckle.

He feigned casualness.

Sherry remained unconvinced and could see the underlying impatience grow ever so slightly.

…

 _October 13, 2010_

The next morning, Yolanda stood watch at the door as Sherry added onto her letter for Dwight.

 _P.S. Please be careful if you ever play anything competitive with Negan. He is a sore loser._

 _P.P.S. Also, you said that you personally can't see me. Why is that?_


End file.
